


STATUS QUO

by Ro_Nordmann



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Everlark?, Odark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-30 21:43:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 50,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10885509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ro_Nordmann/pseuds/Ro_Nordmann
Summary: STATUS QUO: to keep things the way they presently are… Follow the Law we are bound or face the consequences. Inspired by The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood [Previously posted; revised new version for tlcullen132]





	1. PART I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TLCullen132](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLCullen132/gifts).



> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Author’s Note: This story was previously posted a few years ago… left unfinished, but in light of the resurrection of The Handmaid’s Tale as a series on Hulu, I’ve decided to resurrect my own inspired version set in the Hunger Games Alternative Universe. Both stories are dystopian societies that point out the worst in humanity. Some modifications will be made, but hopefully this time around I’ll be able to finish it. Happy Birthday tlcullen132! This is for you :D

****

 

**PART I**

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The Blessed Day had arrived.There was no more delaying the inevitable.The Law was clear.They had a duty to their country, to produce a child after three years of union.A woman was chosen from the Hob, to bear a child.Noncompliance would end in their arrest and possible death. 

Finnick checked his face and hair once again in the mirror.There was no evidence of their afternoon delight.Peeta wasn’t too happy with him and his most inopportune interruption, but it had to be said.They had to comply and uphold the Law.After all, he was ready to hold in his arms, a blue-eyed, blonde baby boy, a carbon copy of his Peeta.Peeta wanted Finnick to have first try, since their baby would be everyone’s envy.

In the end, Finnick won Peeta over with his persuasive touches.An untouched female would be selected to ensure freshness, a beautiful vessel, to complement his Peeta’s looks.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The Capitol's Hob was jammed packed with couples searching for the perfect vessel to produce their offspring.

"We have an appointment with the Hob's headmistress, Effie Trinket. She'll show us the prime specimens available. This way we won't have to spend all day, fighting with other couples to get what we want."

"I want to eat at our favorite restaurant after this. I'm still hungry. This better be a swift process, Finn.”

Finnick slapped Peeta's ass, and tsked in disapproval.

"Patience, my Peeta. All good things comes to those who wait. Who knows, you might like making our child, and we keep our donor."

Peeta was revolted at the thought of keeping a woman around, much less taking daily pleasure with her body. It was enough knowing he would have to impregnate said woman, for the sake of Finn and to abide the Law.

"Don't push me, Finn. One step at a time."

Finn guffawed at his disgusted expression.”

“If you can't get it up, I'll be there to get you good and hard. It is part of the process, you'll see…”

Someone had cleared their throat and interrupted Finn's seductive monologue.

"Mr. Odair?"

Finnick winked and proceeded to kiss the woman's hand. Peeta grimaced as he looked closely at her extravagant costume and make-up.

"Madame Trinket, how nice to finally meet you in person. This is my Peeta. Peeta, this is Madame Trinket. She'll be showing us around."

Peeta felt like running away, but decided a simple nod would suffice at the moment.

"My, my, my… you do have great taste Mr. Odair. I'm sure you'll know what you want as soon as you see it. Follow me."

"Please call me Finn.”

Finnick saw fit to continue his flirtatious manner with the pompous woman as they walked through an empty corridor. Peeta rolled his eyes at his antics.

"As I recall, you wanted a virgin. We can attest to the fertility of the women. We have them examined thoroughly. No barren specimens are allowed here."

Peeta suddenly wondered what happened to the women that were deemed infertile. What was their purpose then?

"Yes, I want the best you've got."

At last, they had arrived at a door. Madame Trinket used a keypad to gain access to the room. As they entered a glass wall separated them from a group of young women.

"As you can see, we have plenty of diversity. Anything you like in particular, Mr. Odair?”

Finnick got closer to the dividing glass, his eyes entranced on the women. Instead, Peeta felt claustrophobic inside the walls of the Hob. He wanted to leave immediately. It didn’t feel right to stand there and choose a donor as if they were items for sale at the Flickerman's Emporium. Something caught his eye, a slight movement behind the glass. His eyes followed it, a pair of hands kept fidgeting and touching the ends of a braid.Hands that looked worn and blistered. These were the hands of someone who had worked hard all her life. As his gaze looked closely, gray eyes glared back. Peeta stopped in his tracks, paralyzed.

"C-can they see us?"

Madame Trinket kept checking her nails, with a disinterested demeanor. At the interruption, she looked at Peeta briefly and turned back to her inspection.

“No, Mr. Mellark, they can't see inside this room. Have you seen _something_ you like?"

 _Something_ , not someone.

"Yes, we have. I want the one with the braid and the lovely gray eyes, Madame Trinket."

Peeta shuddered, at Finnick's choice. He had chosen her? Had he been watching his reaction to the girl? She was too young. Why was she here? Peeta tried taking deep breaths, in hopes of not exacerbating the delicate situation they were facing. Finnick was so in tuned with him, that his hand found his, assuring him everything would be all right.

"Are you sure, Mr. Odair? This is the moment for you to browse with care. After you sign the papers, there will be no return for a mandatory waiting period, until she delivers, of course.”

Finnick squeezed Peeta's hand, and somehow he found the strength to squeeze in return.

"We want her. She will bear our first son."

Madame Trinket nodded, appeased. She touched her ear and talked to someone, giving instructions.

"If you have a daughter, we'll receive her here if she's found worthy. She'll do her duty, as all women are proud to do for the good of Panem. Please, wait outside. I'll be with you shortly. You may have some refreshments, as your specimen is readied for your pleasure."

They obliged and walked out of the confining room. Finnick looked relaxed, while Peeta paced.

"What's got you all riled up? No one is taking her from us. She belongs to us now. Don't fret, Peet. She's a dark beauty, isn't she? I knew the moment my eyes laid upon her that she was the one. As I was about to say something to you, I noticed you were staring right at her, which confirmed it for me. Who knows she might stay with us for a long while…"

Peeta sneered at no one. Had Finnick lost his sense? What if he fathered a girl? What then? She'd be shipped off to this godforsaken place to be prodded and studied, then if she was found satisfactory she would be auctioned to the highest bidder to be his breeding vessel. Was he the only one that found this…inhuman? His own flesh and blood cast out, to be a slave…he'd better father a boy.

"What if it's a girl? Finn, I c-can't-"

Finnick pushed Peeta against the wall, his mouth bruising his lips. His eyes had closed, but slowly he opened them. His moss colored eyes spoke of warning. Brushing his lips against Peeta’s, he whispered, "Burry your words deep within you. Never speak of this again, much less here where I can’t protect you.Eyes are always watching.”

He pushed back, as a young waif of a girl interrupted them. She blushed at finding them in such heated embrace, unknowing of whispered admonition.

"Madame Trinket will be bringing your… selection, sirs. Would you like something to drink as you wait?"

Finnick turned back to Peeta, trying to reassure him things were fine. They were doing the right thing, what was expected of them. There was no reason to fear what the future would bring. Without his eyes leaving Peeta, he commanded, "Bring me the best champagne, we need to celebrate this day. Now leave us, for I have to please my Peeta… you're welcome to watch if you like…or not…”

The girl disappeared from their presence, as if scared of being caught looking at them. Finnick grinned and chuckled in response, while Peeta pitied the girl.

“You should control yourself, Finn. And don't get any ideas. Surely, it can hold up until we get home."

"Already imagining what it will be like from now on? The three of us in our bed, as you make our child inside her womb, my Peeta? For I am thinking just that…"

Finnick's hand grazed Peeta's cheek, moving to cradle his chin. As he was leaning to kiss his lover, Madame Trinket strode in, hauling behind her a protesting body. Barely clothed, they could see her heaving breasts and down to the nest of hair that covered her sex. Peeta wondered if it was to entice them, for he felt his body respond to her near nakedness.

A probe was given by the servant girl, now cowering in their presence, to her mistress. With a flick of her wrist she struck the rebelling girl forcing her to her knees.

"Show respect you insolent wretch. These are your masters now. You must obey them. Always. Serve them right, make me proud to have taken you in, clothed you and fed you. Remember, to serve them, is to serve the Republic of Panem. Your children will be the future men of esteem and honor. Now stand up, let them look at you up close. Don't make them change their minds. And YOU serve them their drinks! I'm surrounded by incompetent worms.”

The horrid woman kept ranting without stopping, but in a lower voice, as if talking to herself. Peeta had an inkling that the woman was completely mad. Why wouldn't she be? If she was no longer a fruitful vessel, her purpose was now being “mother” of these females and handing off to be reproductive slaves for the Capitol's high echelon.

Finnick didn't waste anytime testing his new acquired property. Her hair was dark, like the night sky, but felt like soft freshly picked cotton on his hands. Her stare was directed at the floor, as if it would give her the answers she was looking for. He wanted to see the gray in them, almost like tainted diamonds.

"Straighten your head, look at me."

With reluctance she complied, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Hate radiated from within, but it didn't matter. She would serve her purpose, that he knew. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, he thought. Her breathing was labored, and he couldn't stop himself for staring at her stiff nipples showing through the tissue like shift she was wearing.

"Peeta, come here. I want you to touch her."

Peeta came forward, wishing this would end. Finnick took the proffered drink and took a sip. His face showed his disapproval, but took another sip. Peeta approached the trembling girl with apprehension. He had never been this close to a woman before, much less seen what made them different from men.

"Don't be shy. She won't stop you. She can't stop you."

He didn't want to, but he felt compelled to touch her skin. His hand landed on her neck, where her blood pulsed frantically. She was scared…she feared them; what they would do to her. Peeta wanted to reassure her, but it was pointless. Someday, sooner than he wanted, it would happen, and neither of them were free to stop it.

A huff and cough from Madame Trinket reminded them that the dreadful woman was still with them.

"Are you pleased then, Mr. Odair? I have other appointments waiting…if she is acceptable I would like to continue with my day, if you don't mind. Don't forget to pass through the vestibule to leave your donation."

"Of course, Effie darling. I'm extremely pleased, and I'll be glad to deposit my generous donation, so you'll be able to keep your Hob as the best establishment. I would never dare to pick someone from the very streets, sold by a disgruntled interloper. Those men should be shot on sight for trying to ruin your business. Everyone knows there's no place like the Hob to find your perfect specimen. Have a good day, Peeta, let's go home."

Like an invisible line was pulling her forward, their new property followed them without looking back. It wasn't until Madame Trinket saw fit to taunt her one last time.

"Katniss! Remember to open your legs wide for your young masters. It won't do if you keep them closed and they have to bind you to the bed. It is better if you willingly do as you're told. The rest will be painful, I'm afraid. There's no way you'll be wet enough to endure it. Pity.”

Peeta was disgusted at her words, wishing he could forget he ever heard them. Finnick's face hid this dislike at the woman's parting words, but simply grinned back. As for Katniss, her anger bubbled inside her and she forgot her station. She moved towards her former mistress and slapped her hard. Her fingerprint was clearly defined on her face.

"It must be hell to be declared barren, unproductive, defective, unwanted. You will never know what is like to have a life inside you, to see it grow within you. No one wants you. No wonder you despise us, as we can attain what you'll never have. I pity you and curse you where you stand. May you die alone with no one to care for you.”

Just as swiftly as the fire had burned, it simmered down to embers. Meekly, she returned to her new masters, kneeling and waiting punishment for her unbecoming conduct.

"Goodbye, Effie dear."

Finnick turned around and walked away without addressing the woman kneeling at his feet. Peeta not knowing what to do, followed right along, but not without noticing how the mistress of the Hob, was now on her knees sobbing, her caked face had smeared. She was now truly horrifying.

Katniss. Katniss. Katniss.

Her name was Katniss, and she _belonged_ to them. She would bear them children until they tired of her. She was their property, their breeding vessel. A chill spread throughout his spine, at the thought of the dreaded act upon his shoulders… more accurately his member. Would he feel pleasure? Or would it be a painful ordeal on both parts? He knew what he would have to do…once they were home he would confess to Finn that he couldn't do it. The first child would have to be produced by him. That's it, he felt lighter and relaxed. Only the calmness didn’t last as he smelled her scent. It was entrancing, almost like witchcraft. He wanted to taste her skin, to discern its flavor. All his worries forgotten, he pictured her completely naked, shyly waiting for him to take, to claim…

Nonsense, Finnick would do the taking, the claiming. He would refrain to simply be an observer in the Ceremony of the Blessed Conception. He would lie on his back, as he held the vessel open for his lover to penetrate it, to fill it with his seed in hopes of procuring their child. He would give her to him, and watch.

Just watch.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

He was standing right beside their bed. It represented the happiness he had experienced with Finnick, all these years. And this inanimate object stood there, mocking him, as it signified the place where the act of conception would be consecrated. Finnick had brushed off his misgivings. It had to be him, the first to spill his seed inside her sieving womb. It has to be a boy, Peeta kept repeating it in a loop inside his mind.

Kat, as Finnick liked to call her had been given her own room in their home. She barely made any sounds, so for Peeta it was like she wasn't even there. It was Finnick who would invade her space, making sure she was fed and still breathing. Things between them were the same, as if no woman had infiltrated their domain. Sadly, biology and cycles had to intrude on their apparent blissful existence.

“She's ripe. You need to fuck her tonight, Peet. I'll be there with you…and I'll take care of you. These three nights are the best time for your seed to find its counterpart. Imagine we could be fathers in nine months…he’ll have your ocean blue eyes, maybe he'll inherit your wheat colored hair, a clone of you. And I'll love him so much…"

Him.

He will love him.

Night had come, and with it his citizen duties. His body had been freshly washed and oiled, smelling of sandalwood and pinch of cinnamon. His hair was a mess as Peeta kept running his fingers through it, in frustration. He was out of excuses, his predicament just a few minutes away from staring him, right in the face. Taking deep breaths, he reminded himself that it was natural act, that his body would act on its own. If he had problems with arousal, Finnick would help him.

A flimsy robe covered Kat…niss, as she walked in with her head down. Her ebony hair was down her back, past her waist with lovely curls at the ends. Peeta wanted to touch those curls, smell the scent of her neck, to test if it would entice him like the first time they met. Unbeknownst to him, his body reacted to her proximity. His pulse started to pound, as his breathing accelerated. Just first time nerves, Peeta told himself. He had trembled like a leaf the first time he'd been with Finnick. It had been wonderful in the end, nothing to regret. But this…he had no reference to fall back on.

Finnick's scent assaulted his nostrils next, something familiar that hinted of treasured memories in this very room. He was bare, just like he was, looking a bit too excited. Katniss had stopped a few feet from the bed, hesitating from walking any closer. Finnick stood right behind her until his torso was flushed with her back. His hands searched for the opening of her robe and pushed it back, showing her breasts first, darkened nipples as hard points in the air. An overwhelming compulsion demanded Peeta to take them into his mouth and bathe them with his tongue. His cock jutted proudly, straining from his abdomen. He stared bewildered at how hard he was and felt ashamed, seeing the physical proof of his betrayal. Finnick shouldn’t see he had succumbed so easily.

Meanwhile, Finnick was admiring his Kat. She was his beautiful womb, for she would give him their first child, a boy who would resemble the man he loved. His lips grazed her earlobe, "You will yield, giving yourself to my Peeta. He will be kind, and I'll make sure you get your pleasure as well. Just let yourself go, feel my hands on your skin, nothing more. Don't think."

He led her to closer to the bed, without letting go he sat back on the bed, taking her with him. Once he had her positioned between his legs, he opened her up. He had seen a naked female before…more like a girl, much like his Kat. She had been beautiful, but forbidden. It hadn't stop him from wanting her. With his back reclining on the headboard, he could see Peeta's troubled face. Finnick had to assuage his fears, and inspire his confidence. In the midst of his perusal of their Kat, Peeta had attain arousal on his own, it what a glorious sight. Hmm, later Finn. You'll have him later, he thought.

“Peeta…Peeta, we are ready for you. Come here, baby. I've readied her for you.”

Katniss felt trapped inside her own body, as it was forced to be opened, to be plentiful, to be fruitful, for all of Panem. The Hob had taught her all she needed to do was comply with her masters' commands, as they would do the rest. Just open your legs, let him enter you, close your eyes. Think of your childhood with Prim, Father and Mother, she told herself.

Katniss had known what living free among others was like, loving whomever you wanted without fear of being snatched and turned into a breeding property. She hated having being born female. Outside of the outcast community her family had found shelter in, Panem’s Law dictated your life according to your sex. Women were just a means to an end, easily discarded after the breeding deed was done.

Her father had confessed to her when she was old enough, that being a man wasn't easier either. For him, it had been hell once he was matched to an older man. Her father had never felt attracted to males, so he resisted the union. The man didn't wait, only took what was his by right. Her father killed said man with his own hands, knowing his fate would be death. Only fate gifted him another chance, when he was sure he would perish in a forest that became his refuge, where an angel saved him. She would become the mother of his two daughters and the love of his life.

If they hadn't been caught she would still be there. Probably married to Gale Hawthorne, with her belly growing with their third child. She would have been free. She would have had love. Tears spilled from her eyes, as she relived her parents' death and her capture. Her father's dead eyes staring blankly, she'll never forget. Yes, she hated being born a female.

“No need for tears. We'll be gentle and we'll take good care of you, our Kat."

Unwanted hands brushed her tears away, as they returned to hold her closer to his chest. She felt his erection nudging at her back. It made her tense in place, knowing she had to surrender. Another set of hands took hold of her hips, her eyes opened startled. Blue eyes stared back, showing discomfort and disgust. It was mutual.

“Closer, Peeta."

The man behind her moved one of his hands towards the apex of her legs, his fingers probing with intend. She shifted moving away from his intruding fingers. The hands on her hips stopped her. An unintended moan escaped her, making them believe she was finally giving in.

"Take her, Peeta. She's y-yours. S-she's ready."

Finnick nuzzled her neck, taking in her scent. It was delicious and tempting him to partake in the coming activities. Peeta was a man on a mission, any hesitation on his part had momentarily vanished. He stared at her sex in wonder. It certainly was different from being with Finn. Grinding his pelvis, he could feel her… He had to have her, to plunge into her, mark her as his. Nudging his member between her opened lower lips by Finnick's hands, he pushed forward. There were no more moans of pleasure, but of pain. He was hurting her. As he was about to pull back, Finnick's voice held him in place.

“You need to be careful now, Peeta. You need to push forward, do it gently as you possibly can. This is the proof our Kat had been untouched…until now. Slowly, push through it.”

Her walls were trying to push him out, saying he was invading where he wasn't wanted, but he had to do this. Peeta had to claim her. Her eyes opened and locked with his, beseeching him closer. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. What was she trying to say? Did she want him to stop?

Her hands took hold on Finnick's thighs, leaving imprints of her nails. She was ready, it was inevitable. Please, just do it already, thought Katniss. She even voiced it silently, hoping it would soon be over.

"Look Peeta, our kitten likes to leave scratches behind. She's willing. Take what is yours. Make her ours, make our baby.”

 _Ours_.

Peeta swiftly thrust forward. Katniss gasped, her hands not giving enough hold. It burned so badly, she felt like she was being lanced by hot poker.

"Stay still. Damn, Peet. I told you to go slow. Don't move. You better not have lacerated her walls, or you won't be able to fuck her tomorrow. There, there, my kitty Kat. I'll make it better in no time.”

The pain was still there, but one of her masters knew how to mold her body, to trick it into submission.

“Come, Peet.”

Finnick had stopped touching, and was now cradling Peeta's face, forcing it closer. He kissed the man forcefully, both grunting and moaning at the contact. Peeta could barely keep his pace, and floundered until he felt his spurting orgasm. He collapsed on top of Katniss, completely wiped out. His face was nestled on her neck. She tried to push him off, and turned her head away.

It was done.


	2. PART II

**PART II**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

For two more nights, Katniss was an offering to be claimed at the service of her masters. By the third night, there was no use to coax a response from her, as a numbness had encompassed her whole body. However, her mind was rebelling at her passivity, for allowing these acts to be committed against her will. Were they soulless monsters? Were these actions justifiable by their society where they were brought up in? It didn't matter, because she wasn't of value in the end, only the child, their child; she was just the breeding vessel.

It could've been much worse, she had heard from other women, at the Hob. Violence wasn't prohibited against the females, the masters own them and were free to do as they pleased. She had witness the care, the loving looks shared between her masters, seen the way they kissed. Katniss had to count the small blessing bestowed upon her. Her masters were a love match and they weren't prone to violence. This was the last time, for now. Time would tell if there would be a repeat in the near future.

"And now we wait. We are just weeks away from finding out if we are to be fathers! I can't hardly keep still… Kitty Kat, you can go. Good night." Finnick stretched on their bed, satisfied that in a couple of weeks they would get the greatest news.

Peeta watched as Katniss wobbled out of their room. He wanted to help her, but he wasn't sure how it would be received by her. He rubbed his face, at the same time catching her scent on his hands; it enticed him. He opted a washing was in order, to erase any trace of her essence. He cringed remembering the blood on his flaccid cock after the first time. Finnick had to calm him as he began to panic thinking he had broken her apart from the inside. It was part of the first time, it happens sometimes, he had said. How truly horrifying, Peeta thought, to be a woman.

The shower started on his command, always calibrated to the perfect temperature. Steam fogged the glass, giving him a sense of a closed bubble. No one could touch him here, but it didn't last long, though. Finn had other ideas, than simply wait for him in their bedroom. His lips found his neck, following up to his ear.

"Shit, Peet you fucking did it."

Finnick took what he wanted, and his body responded. Inside his mind, Peeta pleaded for it to be over, feeling wretched, the guilt consuming him. He knew deep within, that what they had done was wrong. And yet, his body betrayed him… wanting more, always wanting more. He felt like a slave to his carnal desires. Pinned to the wall, Peeta searched for air and a way to cleanse his consciousness, as it tortured him by the repeat showing of those gray lifeless eyes staring at him.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"How about Dorien Mellark-Odair? No? Let's see… Abercio Mellark-Odair. No, I'm not too keen on that one… Come on Peet, help me choose a name for our son."

Finnick took a sip of his coffee. He had to leave soon, or he would be late for his appointment with their District's Mayor. A senile man, that was only still in his post because of his partner's influence. Their relationship was the classical example of unity and cooperation. As the Mayor grew in years, his lover was right behind him fixing his blunders. It was heartwarming and uplifting, to witness such devotion. Not everyone was so lucky to find their soulmate in their matched partners. Finnick's gaze searched for Peeta's, only Peeta was staring at the kitchen.

"Prometeo Mellark-Odair? Our son would resemble a deity. Or maybe we should just call him Peter, something mundane and ordinary. PEETA! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Peeta reacted by letting his fork clatter against his plate. He hadn't eaten at all, simply pushing around his scrambled eggs. Two weeks had gone by, still he feeling contrite. He'd been a coward, not approaching her. She was there in the background, yet no one mentioned her. It was the child, their son, the topic of conversation. Finnick kept voicing out names, all Greek in origin.

Peeta wondered what name would Katniss pick for her son… dangerous thoughts plagued him. He wanted to face her, somehow ask forgiveness for what he'd done. He missed seeing her gray eyes, since now she denied him access to them. The few instances they had crossed paths, she had scattered like a frightened mouse. While, Finn acted like nothing had changed. Well, nothing had indeed changed for him. He was still Finnick Odair, the best lobbyist in the Capitol, the best District, the most prosperous. The poor Mayor didn't stand a chance this morning, when his lover pranced around relaying the new policies to be drafted, all for the sake of empowerment of the Republic of Panem. It repulsed him, as he could never be a kiss ass and spout lies to gain the favor of the privileged élite. What did they want now, he pondered. Everything was theirs for the taking. The other Districts were the exporters of every little aspect of their lives, even the women.

"How about Gale Mellark? It means-"

The sound of chattering glass disturbed their breakfast. Peeta stood abruptly, hesitating whether to enter the kitchen, where the sound came from. Finnick cleaned his mouth of food residue and stood as well.

"Are you all right? I think you should stay in today. You might be coming down with something. I'll be sure to come home right after I finish my scheduled meetings. Don't fret, I'm sure Old Mags will take care of it. That old bag might be a comfort to our Kat, as only women can. Leave them to it. I'll see you, this evening. Think on the names I mentioned."

Finnick picked his briefcase and slammed the door. It brought Peeta back to life, as he stood in the same place. Only the murmur of feminine voices could be heard and the scratching of a broom as it pushed the broken glass. Had something fallen out of Old Mags hands? It was very probable, with her age, yet something in his gut told him it had been Katniss.

"I'm so sorry," Katniss blubbered between panting breaths, as she tried to keep her panic at bay. From all the names, he had to choose Gale. Just thinking of it made her tremble. Taking hold of the counter, she forced herself to take deep breaths. Gale was most likely dead, for there was no way he would have complied with the Law. Gale Hawthorne had never known what the absence of freedom was like. He treasured like it, fully knowing how easily it could be taken away. He had been lucky to have lived most of his life in the outer rims of the dreaded Laws of Republic. His hatred for what Panem stood for, was something he would've died for. Seeing her being taken, must have stirred the deepest rebellion. Gale had been a fighter, and Katniss knew he had died as one.

Don't worry, dear. It's just glass, totally replaceable. Now, I need for you to eat those eggs and drink that milk. We don't need a sickly woman. You need your strength for what's to come.

Mags was an older woman with salt and pepper hair, and with the heart of a grandmother. Katniss never met her grandmother, but she imagined she would have been like Old Mags. She had explained that as women grew older, their roles changed to other domestic duties. She was happy to be with the Odair boys, as she called them. Mags always tried to appease Katniss with soothing words and tales of the long gone past. She had even told her of her own love story, of how she had fallen for her master, a man who resembled master Finnick, for he had been his father. She had warned Katniss that such affairs were forbidden by the Law, punishable to the extent of death if caught. In her case it was unrequited, for the man never returned her feelings. Katniss asked if then she was Finnick's mother, and she simply shrugged and kept cleaning. Would she end up like Mags? Cleaning after her son, without him knowing or caring that she had bore him.

Tears spilled, as she reminisced about her childhood, how she had been fortunate to have her mother and father, to live with her sibling. She contemplated how many women had simply given up and taken their own lives.

"Shh… none of that now, you mustn't feel depressed, this child is a blessing. You'll see."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss was sitting in the indoor garden, singing to herself in a fail attempt to pacify her startled nerves. She simply couldn't forget Gale's face the last time she saw him. She was certain he wanted to say more… he wanted to ask for her to be his. She would have said yes. Life had other plans set in motion for her, none that included a life of her own.

"Is e-everything t-to your liking? D-do you need something in particular? I could-"

She had gone quiet, and it had given Peeta the chance to interrupt. Her skin turned from white to red to white in mere seconds, he got worried she would faint.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disturb your singing… you have a lovely voice. I could hear it, and I simply had to come… I'll leave you be."

She cleared her throat, searching for the words to answer her master.

"Did I interfere with your slumber? Please forgive me, master. It wasn't my intention. I will retire to my room."

She stood ready to sprint to her room, but his hand gripped her wrist stopping her from moving any further. She wanted to brush his hand off, to scream at his face. She schooled her face to a façade of indifference. He couldn't hurt her anymore. If any deity cared for her, she would be free of him for the next nine months.

"Call me Peeta, not Master. Just Peeta. I'm deeply sorry for intruding. You may stay as long as you want. I guess it was foolish of me to think… never mind. I'm not usually at home. Even if my job isn't as prominent as Finn's, I do get commissions from people with too much money and time on their hands, for portraits. And now I'll shut up. Good day, Katniss."

Just as abruptly as he had appeared, Peeta left a bewildered Katniss behind. The only good thing he took from their encounter was seeing her eyes ignite, even if was in bottled rage.


	3. PART III

**PART III**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was a catastrophe.

She hated her damn body, that kept betraying her. There was no one left in the universe that cared for her miserable life. The spots of blood announced she wasn't pregnant. This meant she had another three nights in their bed, enduring the rutting and panting on top, and the moaning and humping on the back.

Why couldn't they simply fuck each other?

It was obvious they lusted for each other. She was superfluous…The Law was clear and left no escaping it. It required a matched couple of able-bodied males, after the third year of their blessed union had to procreate at the very least three children in their lifetime. If the offspring was male, it would live with its fathers. If the child was female, she was shipped to another district, her usefulness to be determined, so states the Law.

Katniss knew that not every female child was spared from death. She had even heard from experienced women in the Hob, that some smothered their own baby if it was born a girl. They believed it was better for them, there was no point birthing an unwanted burden to the Republic.

Mags tried to console Katniss, but there was nothing that could change the consequences of her bleeding. As soon as the masters returned, she'd have to face them. Her menses cycle would decide the next time.

It would please master Finnick, as he seemed obsessed with everything timed and scheduled to perfection. She wasn't too sure if she hated him the most. His hands knew how to ignite an ache inside, those same hands held her, opened her for his lover, while the other mechanically rocked back and forth until he spilled inside her.

Why couldn't she had been fortunate like other women and be classified as _barren_?

"I wish I had been found a _barren_ woman."

"Bite your tongue, child. Never say such a thing. If a real barren woman had heard you… she'd strike you dead with her bare hands. Don't speak of such things. Be thankful you've found yourself at the hand of such kind masters. My boys will not be cruel. They won't share you, or ridicule you for their entertainment. Just be thankful."

Katniss wanted to retort, saying she was clearly insane. A woman who had loved her master was not going to understand. Her view on this life was biased by a distortion of what love really meant. Mags had never known what freedom felt like, to have a real family. She had lived free, loved and was loved back. She could have had it for her own, too. If only…

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"Come with me, Peet. It's just one of those "party-ballthingies". I need you by my side. It would probably get me more influence with the old-farts and side with me. Everyone adores us together. They can look, but can't touch. They'll be fantasying about you and me together, all hot, sweaty and panting. Most importantly, President Snow will be there with his new toy. That man has an insatiable appetite, it's gotta be abnormal, or he has trust issues… remember when he had that cute little thing permanently gagged. Such a pity, since he had great lips-"

"Stop! I'm not going to the gathering with you. I detest those parties with all those lecherous men, humping each other in the semi-darkened hallways. It's revolting. I'm sorry, but what good would I do there? I can't talk like you. You have them in the palm of your hand, as they slobber all over. I can't imagine what your life was like before I was matched to you…"

Finnick glared at Peeta's outburst. It only served to remind him of his dark past, of how he had gained the favor of the Capitol's high esteemed members. He had been a toy himself, used and abused at the whim of random powerful men. It wasn't that long ago, but he wanted it buried and forgotten. He was a different man now, belonging to one man. A man who he loved passionately and was currently wounding him with reckless comments.

"E-enough. Fine, stay here. Maybe you'll strike up conversation with our Kitty Kat. She surely has been doom and gloom since she bled. It might be a good idea for you to make her feel comfortable around you. And I'll try my best to find you more portraits request for you to create. Who knows, maybe Snow himself will ask a painting from you. You sell yourself short, for you don't see how they covet you, my Peet. You make them envious, for something they haven't got."

Peeta shuddered at the thought of being in the presence of their President. It would likely give him nightmares for weeks. The man was to be feared, for his ruthlessness and callousness. Rumors said Snow had killed more than one of his mated partners for things so petty as the color of clothes they wore.

He waited to hear what was so special of his paintings, but Finnick stayed quiet in return.

"And that is?"

Finnick's face changed into a mischievous smirk, and got closer to Peeta. With his breath brushing over Peeta's face he whispered, "Beauty. They can't create it, neither see it, but you somehow give them beauty in every portrait you paint. It all stems from your beautiful soul… and of course your own beauty isn't a determent for them to ask for your presence in their homes for hours on end, either. I'll see you later tonight. Do wait for me."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta found Katniss in the indoor garden, once again. This time she was staring at the full moon, as it provide enough light to walk around. She looked like she was glowing from the inside. He wanted to memorize the moment in his mind's eye, so later he could recreate it, immortalize it in charcoal and paper. Her gray eyes reflected a deep sadness, that he wished he could take away.

"Where are you Prim? Where did they take you? Are you still at the Hob? Are you even alive? I hope you're with Mother and Father… they will take care of you. Even if it hurts not seeing you again, it is better you are dead. This… this is no life, Prim. I'm their property, a useful one, a womb with a purpose. When that purpose is fulfilled… what will happen to me? What of my child, Prim? For that child will be half of me…Mags keeps warning me to accept my fate. But how can I give up my life? When I knew how life could be… maybe it would be a blessing if I rebelled and they sent me to another District or made me an Avox. Am I not a slave already? Damn this body and damn them all!"

Peeta hid in the shadows, perplexed at Katniss' emotional tirade. This Prim, must be her sister, to whom she was supposedly confessing. Her words felt like burning punctures to his chest. She was truly unhappy in their home, in their lives. What was the point of the Hob, if the women came out of it like this? What life did she had before them, before the Hob? It was evident she still yearned for it. Did she prefer death, to this existence? There was no way he would approach her tonight, as her sobs surrounded him. She had collapsed to her knees, all her energy depleted.

She despised him, certainly wished him death. If anyone else had heard her words… she'd be severely punished according to the Law. All were held against it, all were bound to it. It was the **_status quo_** : women were meant to serve the men, their wombs sieves to procure the future generations of Panem's men. Peeta had never questioned Katniss' purpose as a breeding vessel, until now.

"Katniss…"

"Leave me alone."

"Who's Prim?"

She glared at the direction from Peeta's voice, as he still hid in the shadows. Slowly, she gained strength to stand up.

"It is in my past. You don't own my past. And if it's not against your wishes, Master, I will retire to my room." Suddenly, Peeta was right in front of her, his hands taking hold her arms. "Please… I need to know more about you… why you're so sad. I want to help you-"

Katniss shook him off and turned her back on his determined eyes that seemed to be searching for the secrets inside her.

"Did you know your mother? Did she take care of you? Tuck you in? Sing to you when you were afraid at night? I miss my Mother. She died at the hands of men who found our home. They killed my Father… he was the best man I've ever known. He fought his life, one away from the Law. He found love with my Mother, and he never regretted it, not even in death. His only fear was seeing us chained and taken away… to be slaves, to be your breeding vessels! He died when he realized he couldn't protect us, not when he was decapitated. Prim… is my sister. I don't know what's become of her. I wish with all strength that she's dead… even if I don't get to see her ever again. It is a preferable fate, than mine."

Only the sound of the nighttime insects surrounded them in their little sanctuary. Peeta was frozen in place, and speechless for a while.

"I-I never knew my mother. My father, well he didn't care much for me… he was glad when I was of age and sent to the academy to learn a trade. It didn't help much, as I didn't have much interest for the privileged occupations. He wanted me to become a renewed architect, and all I amounted to be was a so-so painter. My drawings were appreciated by my teachers and that got me some recognition, but never in his eyes. My life changed the moment it was linked to Finnick… the Matchmaker said we would be very happy together. He wasn't wrong. These past three years have been the best of my life until…"

Katniss turned back to him, her gaze settling on his face. "Until the Law intruded on your blissful happiness, dictating you had to procreate with a woman," Katniss spat in response.

Peeta shrugged and said, "I was unprepared for all of it. And I didn't want to be the one… but Finnick wanted our first child to be fathered by me. I acquiesced to his wishes. I take this moment, to express my apologies to you. It was never my intention to make you feel imprisoned under me… if I could-"

Rage boiled inside her at his patronizing manner, "You'd what? Give me my freedom? Set me free? Please, don't try to lessen your guilt with meaningless words."

"I want you… and I hate you! You confuse me, and are always in my mind. What have you done to me? I fear that this will ruin the life I have… but somehow I care about you, what will happen to you, Katniss. Maybe you are right, it is my guilt, or maybe it is something else rotting me from the inside."

Katniss huffed in derision, fed up with his melodrama, "Quit your griping, Master. I'll do my duty next time, letting you deposit your seed on your breeding vessel. Be sure to be efficient, so it will be the last time. In nine months you and your Finn will get your son. There's no need to fret over a woman, who's just a property and can be easily replaced. Don't let your insides rot over someone insignificant."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"Good, you waited for me… for I've been craving you all night long. You're right, those parties are getting more boring and outrageous. The President's Avox was present, the poor thing. I felt sorry for him. He-"

"Is that what an Avox is?"

Finnick frowned at Peeta, not liking his interruption and dire mood. He had other things in mind for the two of them and their spacious, comfortable bed.

"I told you that the President had a new toy, a young man… but supposedly he'd been disobedient. Snow had the boy's tongue removed and his mouth sewn shut. I don't think that's a great idea, I mean his mouth is not functional. No oral," Finnick shook his head. Peeta was appalled at his response.

"Is that all that you see wrong with it? It is inhuman, to treat a person this way. You should promote new amendments to the Law. How will that man eat now? Now, he's just a hole to be fucked for the President's pleasure."

"He also serves the President's guests, Peeta. It is his fate and punishment. Why do you care for avox's rights? It is a very old punishment implemented on rare occasions. And it would be foolhardy of me to stir the pot looking for changes to the Law, much less for the abolishment of such practice."

Peeta tried another approach, "What if it was you Finn? What if you had displeased your Master? Wouldn't you want a reprieve? There has to be another way… the Law isn't infallible."

Finnick clenched his fists, wanting to punch something, or someone. It was a low blow from Pete using his past to persuade and manipulate his feelings. So tonight, he will be sleeping somewhere else, and find no release in the arms of his lover.

"This is the way things are, and will remain. Never, I mean never say the Law isn't perfect. As a Citizen, I'm bound to inform on your crime… but I won't. Be thankful, no one else heard for they won't be as merciful, Peeta. I'll be sleeping in another room tonight."


	4. PART IV

**PART IV**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The date had arrived. The night was theirs for the taking. Katniss barely ate that morning, and throughout the day Mags tried to push food into her mouth with not much luck. Just thinking of their bed, the sensation of being held and taken repeatedly for the next three nights made Katniss want to slit her wrist and just let the blood flow. Sleep eluded her most nights, thinking of a way out. Maybe she could persuade them to let her go, find someone else. Then she thought how cruel of her to think of such a thing. Was it right to want to force this on another woman?

Mags loved being in that house, taking care of her boys. Katniss could see how bright her eyes turned when Finnick was in the room. It was the only time she seemed alive. And how she dotted on him, as if he was still a little boy. It both infuriated and saddened her, to see an old woman's life reduced to a few minutes. Finnick didn't really pay attention to her or thanked her. It was a given to him, that the woman was there to serve him until her last breath. If only Katniss had the courage to kill them in their sleep, but she knew it would devastate Mags. She'd probably kill herself and die beside her beloved Finn.

"Stop thinking, child. You need to be relaxed for tonight. It will not help matters if you stress yourself and another month goes by without the seed taking hold. You want it to stop, then let it take its intended course. Sometimes giving in, is a way to finding true happiness."

Katniss managed a small smile, but not really meaning it. Empty words, that brought no comfort to her. Give in? Had she not been a good little girl? She left the old woman to her cooking and went to the only place she found solace, the garden. Coming to this place was the closest she could get to being outside.

The open space allowed the breeze in and the birds to enter. The trees and flowers were her best companions. Here, she could trick herself that she had gone to the meadow to play hide and seek with her sister. She could almost hear her giggles and taunts, that she would make Gale fall in love with her and take him from Katniss. But Katniss didn't believe her, as she clearly knew her sister had her eyes set on another Hawthorne male.

"Katniss…"

"Katniss…"

"Prim?"

Heavy footsteps alerted her that she wasn't alone anymore. It was the blonde man, the one who preferred being called Peeta. He seemed fond of following her around, lurking in the shadows if he was at home. It unnerved her.

"Mags said supper is ready. She told me you'd be here. I'm sure you're hungry-"

Katniss sneered at the darkened sky, fully knowing that Mags had ratted her out. She turned and almost collapsed back, saved by the hold of strong hands. It had been him, he'd gotten so close. Embarrassed, Katniss avoided looking into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

"I'll be right in, Master."

She tried to shake off his strong grip, but it loosened on its own. Temptation was too great and her eyes locked with his. He felt hesitant and ready to bolt out of the garden. Why? It was his house, and she was the slave. Peeta Mellark was truly confusing… and unfortunately very alluring. She could taste in her mouth his scent mixed with sweat. She noticed his hands were smudged with fresh paint and his nails were smudged with charcoal. Checking her arms, there were smears of paint. Another brand of ownership over her body…

"Sorry 'bout that, I'll leave you now. Need to clean up or Mags will more than likely try to give me a bath herself. Ah, I'll see you later, Katniss."

One of his hands twitched, like he wanted to touch her again but held back. Once he left the garden, Katniss was able to breathe again. Yes, he was handsome, but he was her enemy. Remember that, Katniss said as she hit her forehead.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss knew what awaited behind that closed door, yet she was shaking and on the brink of a crying fit. Mags kissed her on the cheek and held her hands.

"Think of the babe, darling girl. He will be loved, and if you let yourself believe, maybe you'll be able to love him too. Wouldn't that be wonderful? It can always be so much worse fate… Now, my only advice give over to sensation. Don't think, feel."

At her last word, the door opened, Finnick was there in his robe, "Thanks Mags. Welcome Katniss, please come in. We're waiting anxiously for you."

The door slammed behind her, and it made her jump. It was like she hadn't been conscious of her actions for a few seconds. Something in the air, a different smell surrounded them. As she inhaled again, her body relaxed. Hands pushed her robe off her body. She only felt it caress her skin as it fell and pooled at her feet. It felt soothing on her skin, and her mind was empty. Nothing was troubling her anymore. Someone was lying on the bed, he was naked. Katniss thought he was sleeping, until Finnick left her at the foot of the bed, he bent over the man and whispered in his ear. The man stirred from his rest and abruptly sat up. Blue eyes stared right at her, looking over her nakedness. It was Peeta, only he didn't seemed like him.

Peeta felt like he was in a trance, as he was sure it wasn't possible to see a field of wildflowers and a naked Katniss in his room. At least this time she didn't look like prey ready for the slaughter. He didn't know if this made it easier on him. His body sure wanted her again. Finnick licked his earlobe, trying to get his attention.

"Tonight… I want it to be different. It's only us, no one will know… aren't you a bit curious, my Peet?"

In the haze he was under, Peeta didn't comprehend what Finnick was insinuating.

"W-what?"

Brushing his lips against his jaw line, Finnick proceeded to explain his plan, "Look at her, Peeta. She's ours. Imagine, she's under you, as you take her, and I take you. Seems fair, doesn't it? Fuck the Law. I want you, and you want her. Simple. No one will ever know."

Peeta's heart was ready to burst out of his chest. He wasn't sure if he was at risk of dying. He was about to protest, Finnick replied, "There's no need for fears. I'll protect you with my life, as I know you would do for me. Just let yourself feel."

With little resistance Peeta accepted, as Finnick kissed him passionately. Standing up, Finnick turned his attention to his Kat. She was beautiful, but too shy. That needed to be remedied, he thought. He took notice that she looked relaxed, meaning the fumes had gotten to her. She would give in tonight, no resistance would be met. With just shove she moved forward, with simple commands she was in the bed.

"Good kitty Kat, look at her Peeta, see how good she's being. She needs to be rewarded. And you need to be rewarded to, Peet. Do as I showed you. Slowly."

"Katniss… I don't want to hurt you…"

This time she felt different, like in a trance, as if she wasn't really there. Somehow, doing as Mags had told her had been easier than she thought.

It was Katniss' hands on his chest that made him move. It understood the touch as her wanting him, so he complied. He didn't want to leave. The moans and pants cheered them on, as a rhythm developed between them. Peeta felt compelled to kiss Katniss, finding her opened mouth blindly. Her moans were now his for the taking, swallowing her cries of pleasure. It wasn't going to last for long, it was too much. This time she would experience bliss at his hand.

Katniss was closer to whatever it was happening within, a surging, burning wave. Something was about to give, find an escape from within. A release, followed by a silent scream torn from her chest. Nothing else mattered to her. She had felt weightless, for a few precious seconds, she'd been free.

Peeta had never felt such a rush, as he emptied himself. Finnick was holding his weight on his arms, but finally untangled himself and fell on his side, panting and cursing. It was the first time they'd all come at the same time.

"Fuck… that was so intense. Those old, bald fuckers have outlawed this… Fuck, baby…"

As Peeta moved off Katniss, he observed how comfortable she looked on their bed. Her face looked rosy and fresh. Freshly fucked, he thought. Even he could see a smile formed on her lips. It caused Peeta to smile back, he'd done that. He wanted to do it again… He had two more nights, to pleasure her, to make her his. After that, he didn't know if he'll get another chance.

"What's got you smiling, my Peet? Oh, I know… you made her come. Now, let's clean ourselves off, and let kitty Kat sleep. She'll be here."

As they walked to their bathroom, Peeta sensed something. A foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach, like the beginning of the end.

What was ending?

Did breaking the Law would result in a chain reaction and who would pay the consequences of said disobedience?


	5. PART V

**PART V**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

His studio had been invaded. He was surrounded by her presence. Her condemning stare, wishing he died on the spot. Her hair, long and dark ensnaring him to her, entangled in his fingers, as she lied under him holding her whimpers. Her braid signified her closed off persona, her everyday armor. The curve of her bare breast, as she silently screamed in pleasure. He had drawn every aspect of his Katniss…but she wasn't his, not really. How could he claim her when he belonged to someone else? She was _theirs_ temporarily, for the sole purpose of procreation.

Peeta knew one undeniable truth: he yearned for Katniss. If his seed had taken root in her womb, Peeta had no right to seek her.

Every piece of paper in his studio was covered with some aspect of her he wanted to immortalize. It was obsessive and obscene, condemnable by the Law.

Focus, damn it, Peeta berated to himself. If his patrons came for an impromptu visit, he had no real evidence of his progress.

Breathing deeply, he tried to mentally prepare himself. It didn't work much, as he had stolen Katniss' robe. He felt the silky texture of the material, imagining it touching her skin. He wanted her again, and again. He proceeded to bring the collar up to his nose, inhaling the remnant traces of her scent. His mind conjured up a reel, he could see her enjoying herself as he pushed deeper finding the greatest pleasure. As Peeta was about to open his pants to relieve himself, a knock on the door stopped him.

"Shit…shit… Just a moment!"

The door handle jiggled and then a voice from behind it called, "It's me Peet. Open up!" Bigger shit, Peeta thought. It was Finn, he probably wanted to take him to lunch. It wasn't unusual for them to see each other during the day. He simply couldn't open the door, not in the state the room was in or his aroused body. Running around like a headless chicken, Peeta started to pick up any evidence of his compulsive drawings of Katniss. He hid them in the armoire, under the sofa and in drawers in his desk.

"What's taking so long? Do you have someone modeling for you? Maybe, I should come back-"

Peeta opened the door just in time, as Finnick was about to turn and leave. "Sorry, ah… I, well the place was a mess… so I was trying to clean up a bit," Peeta shrugged. Finnick furrowed his forehead in confusion. It was an odd reaction for Peeta to feel the need to clean his mess. Finnick was quite accustomed to his chaotic space. Besides, he liked seeing him in his element, his genius talent. He'd hoped to find him in mid-stroke, creating his latest masterpiece showcasing his latest patron. The interruption would have been the perfect intermission, an afternoon quickie on the sofa bed that faced the open window. Yeah, let's give something to talk about to their envious neighbors, Finnick mused.

"Are you hiding something?"

Peeta blanched at the question, and averted his eyes looking anywhere but at Finnick.

"No, it's just I haven't been able to develop this piece. I'm having a hard time envisioning it and translating it on canvas. I can't fuck it up. It's for a very important client."

Since, he wasn't paying attention to Finnick, he was startled to feel Finnick's lips on his neck. "Anyone I know? I bet me talking about you in that horrid party got you new clients… What can I say? I can be very persuasive…"

"Heavensbee wants a new portrait of his latest son…"

Hearing that name stopped Finnick's seduction, as he flinched and felt a chill run down his spine. He was glad life had been kind to him when he was granted Peeta, but he had suffered enough before he was matched.

Heavensbee was high in the Capitol's food chain, with complete access to President Snow, meaning he had his ear and favor. How he escaped his clutches was still a mystery to Finnick.

Peeta noticed how pale Finn had turned. He was ignorant of how this man had really hurt his Finn, and he felt guilty for dropping his name so carelessly.

"And I have a second portrait… this one is for President Snow. His assistant came by with his request. I was stunned, never thought my reputation would be in high regard to gain Snow as a client. But I imagine if I make a fool of myself, I'll be shot in the town square, the first public execution in twenty years."

Finnick acknowledged Peeta's failing attempt at humor, "You need the best materials for both pieces. I'll help with that. And no you won't be the first executed man in public, Panem would riot at such act. With your face and ass, it would be a crime to deprive the world of such work of natural beauty. Most men nowadays are fake creations concocted by that deranged Dr. Aurelius. I'm sure he's about a hundred and must have a thousand avoxes working under him."

Peeta chuckled at Finnick's exaggeration and better take on humor, "That's total bullshit, if we are about comparing male beauty, you're the handsome and most rare beauty of the two of us, and I surely would rebel and find death if such atrocity came to be. And how could you imply that crackpot doctor is older and has more slaves than Snow?"

Finnick shook his head laughing at their absurd conversation, "Getting back on track, I came here to take you out to lunch… But you need to change, that smudged shirt won't do. Go clean up a bit, I'll be waiting here. I promise I won't go back there and try to molest you, if I do then we won't leave until sundown." Peeta acquiesced to Finnick's request and left him alone.

Finnick looked around, seeing everything had been set aside in Peeta's intent to make the room more presentable. It irked him. There had to be a reason, something he wanted to keep secret. He walked around the room inspecting, searching for anything out of place.

A gust of wind pushed through the opened window, causing the sheer curtains to flutter and caused a crumpled paper to drop on the floor. Finnick followed the sound and found it. His hands opened it. At first sight he knew who it was. It was Kat, _their_ Kat, only this was how Peeta saw her.

A gorgeous woman came alive on paper with precise charcoal strokes depicting every detail of her face, her eyes, her nose, her lips, her chin. If he had added color, it would be like a photograph. Finnick crumpled it again, his hand in an angry fist. Something inside him started to bleed. He was to blame. He brought her into their home. He opened her to his Peet, asked him to take her.

Why didn't he listen when Peeta said he didn't want to be the one? Finnick no longer had a secure place as Peeta's only love. A stranger had trespassed that sacred place, sprouting seeds of doubt and jealousy.

"I'm ready. Where are we going? Don't tell me… Where going to meet with Cinna and Flavius?"

Finnick artfully hid the evidence and turned smirking, "Yes, you know they are dying to see you. They want to prepare us for impending fatherhood, as they have been blessed with two rambunctious boys. Also, to gossip about the party and who knows what else. Come."

Finnick beckoned Peeta to come closer with his hand, he complied. His lips descended on Peeta, devouring him. His hands gripped his tousled hair holding his head at an angle, so Finnick had easier access to Peeta's mouth. In the tangle of tongues, Finnick bit the lower lip, hard. Peeta opened his eyes and locked his gaze on Finn's. A warning of sorts, with no words was transmitted. Finnick mentally screamed, MINE MINE MINE, while Peeta feared his eyes revealed his betrayal.

His tongue soothed the inflamed lip, licking it slowly, Finnick took one step back with his hands still entangled in Peeta's hair. Leaning his forehead on Peeta's, eye to eye, Finnick finally spoke, "Don't you ever forget it. I love you, Peeta. You are mine. All of you, as I am yours."


	6. PART VI

**PART VI**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss tried to help Mags with her house work, but she wouldn't budge. She believed it was hers alone to do. It left Katniss with pretty much nothing to occupy her time. It allowed her mind to ruminate on her future. If she was pregnant by next month, it would mean she was free from their bed. It also meant she'd be examined to determine the sex of the baby. So many scenarios went through her head, it only exacerbated her helplessness.

She missed her sister terribly, as she had been her only friend. Now, she had no one to confide in. Mags wasn't her equal, in age or experiences. Her views on their roles was completely different, therefore Katniss avoided addressing any related subject. She had been brought up free from the indoctrination and socialization that most women endured. Her father as a renegade had created a place of harmony, where her mother was his equal partner and they loved each other.

Looking out the window she would barely see a woman, much less a girl walking the streets. Women were hidden away, behind closed doors, like she was always waiting for the inevitable news of impending motherhood.

How long would she stay in this house?

How many children would she give birth to this particular couple?

Would they sell her at open auction?

If she didn't behave would they beat her to death or send her to be publicly admonished?

The Hob had been her home for so many months, maybe more than a year. Time there seemed eternal, she couldn't really tell how much had gone past. It was in that prison, Katniss learned the truth of her condition, the burden of being born a woman.

The Law stated women had no rights. Their place in the Republic of Panem was subservient under the male, to copulate for reproduction, for the production of generations of healthy men. It was their _only_ purpose, as property of the man or men who selected her. If she was found barren or too old for reproduction, the women were sent to other districts specialized in mass manufacture of products needed throughout the Republic, like agriculture and textiles. Other labors were handled by the judged as criminals and rebels against Panem, males who'd neglected to serve as honorable men.

Her father was deemed one of those rebels, had been lucky to escape and find himself a little piece of land to claim very far from the Capitol's eye and his old wretched existence. It had been eighteen wonderful years living in a forest, in a cabin by a lake. He had taught her how to hunt and survive in the wild. She was as strong as Gale and could best him at everything. But the Law stated, as a woman, she was nothing but a breeding vessel; her sole purpose to birth strong males for the Republic.

And here was her other struggle, to breed other women to be marginalized and enslaved. Could she allow her own flesh and blood to be taken from her and imprisoned in the Hob? Would she simply open her legs once more and allow seed to take hold and start the cycle all over again?

As her stress kept mounting, her fingernails were practically nonexistent, only stubs were left. There was no way out of this, only death. Her hands found the will to touch her belly briefly. With eyes closed she sent a prayer to Prim. Speaking to her sister was a balm to her soul and the only place that made her feel closer to her.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss' room, more like a cell, composed of a bed and a set of plain white shift, she only used for sleep. The rest of her time she spent it at the indoor garden. Here she could feel the wind against her skin and touch living things. It was in this open space Katniss could talk as if her sister would listen. She told her of her fears, of her dreams that had been destroyed at the hands of the soldiers that found them. She reminisced about how their lives had been an illusion, doomed to fail. She tried not to think of Gale, and his family. She often found herself wondering if he'd been fortunate to escape. She wished he'd find a good woman, one better than her, who'd be waiting for him at their little cabin, rocking a beautiful baby in her arms. It all seemed so real in her mind, if only, she thought.

"Just ten days and I'll know Prim…I'm scared. I don't know what to wish for, if in indeed a child grows within me please let it be a boy. If not…I'll kill myself, Prim. You have to forgive me, but I simply can't withstand this, for I'm sure they'll send me back to the Hob… to that horrid woman, who'll spit on my face and enjoy my misfortune. They'll get another female to torture and use. She'll send me to another couple, and surely they won't be so accommodating. Please Prim, pray for a boy…"

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta couldn't stay any longer in his studio. He hadn't progressed on his appointed portraits as he had intended and the deadlines were fast approaching. He called Mags and told her he was coming home, and to air the attic. It was his former place, where he still had his old things lying around. The window in the middle of the room would allow him to spy on Katniss and her visits to the garden. It was the perfect solution to his predicament, as he would be close to her and he could then work.

He had done a study of the Heavensbee's son, a pump five month old boy with ringlets of dark brown hair, with blue-gray eyes. The child had smiled at him, as he started to draw his profile. After five minutes, Peeta had stopped drawing and had succumbed to holding the baby and letting him play with his dirty fingers.

It had been the first time he'd seen himself wanting this, wanting to be a father. It thrilled him, as it unnerved him knowing how this would unfold. A woman, his Katniss had been selected to deliver him a son, but she would not be there to take care of him, share the joys of taking care of their son.

As he looked around the opulent Heavensbee household, there were no signs of the mother. It wasn't uncommon for women to be used once and then discarded for another with different looks. The older portrait hanging at the main entrance showcased the happily family of Heavensbee and his husband, and their three-year old son, Mathias. No woman was part of it, and by the appearance of the older brother it was more than likely that they didn't share the same mother.

High ranking men were allowed to procreate the maximum of three male children, every three years. If a girl was born, she'd be examined and ranked, sent to the corresponding institution. Not all women were regarded as breeding vessels, if found esthetically unpleasing or if they had physical defects. Their fate was sealed from birth to probably die or be sterilized, and sent as part of the work force for the manufacturing districts.

"How is your partner, Mr. Mellark?"

Peeta continued to smile at the baby, rocking him side to side.

"He's good, sir. Working hard to keep things running smoothly. You know better than me, I'm sure. Well, I think I've taken enough of your time today. If I need more time spent with your son, I'll let you know before hand."

"He's the best. You were very lucky to find yourself matched to Finnick Odair. No one is as loyal and as handsome. I heard through the rumor that you went on a visit to Madame Trinket not that long ago. Has it been three years already? My, my how time flies… I'm getting old, and poor Mathias better grow up soon, so he can inherit my estate."

Peeta laughed with the middle-aged man, whose pouch jiggled as he chucked louder.

"I'm sure you're not that old, with a new healthy baby boy, Heavensbee. As for the rumor… yes, we are currently waiting to confirm if we'll be parents soon."

Heavensbee stared at Peeta for a few seconds, then said, "I'm sure he'll be the most gorgeous of the Capitol's men, coming from a father like Finnick Odair. He'll be a legend…"

Peeta was starting to feel uncomfortable, and gave the baby back to his father. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm actually the one… Have a good day, sir. I'm hoping to finish before the deadline, wouldn't want you to have that gathering without the portrait hanging in place for all to admire."

"Don't forget to say my congratulations to your Finnick on his impending fatherhood. And good luck on your other charge, that other painting must be a heavy burden in your mind, after all it is for our dear President."

"Have a good day, sir."

The condescending manner in which he spoke, befuddled Peeta as to why he had been chosen. It was clear Heavensbee didn't particularly like him, as his tone clearly expressed his predilection of Peeta's partner. And reminding him of the other painting, it was like stabbing him where it hurt. He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't really refuse. This particular piece was going to give him nightmares for the rest of his life.

Once outside, Peeta took some fresh air, helping him feel more calm and the fact he was closer now to his home was even more soothing. He would see Katniss, and then work on the baby's portrait, Darius Heavensbee-Undersee. He practically ran all the way, slamming the door startling poor old Mags in the process.

"What's wrong? Is Finnick hurt?"

Peeta hugged her tight, and kissed her wrinkled forehead. The woman cared for him, but her love and attention were reserved for the green-eyed man who own her heart. Peeta shook his head in response, "You know he's healthy as can be, the way you coddle him, indulging his every whim. He's a grown man, Mags, let him feed himself for a few days…and hear the complaints!" She smiled and gave him a chuckle, tugging on his cheek.

"You dear boy are the moon and stars for my boy. Don't go breaking his heart, you hear."

Peeta averted his eyes from her, and looked at the stove and what smelled so good.

"No peeking! I've done as you asked. The room is a pigsty, but it's your problem. Are you even listening to me? Peeta!"

He was searching for Katniss, but she wasn't in the room. Surely, she was sitting at her favorite place, the bench beside the small fountain. Was he late to listen to her speaking to her sister? What was worrying her today? It was the main reason for him to come home, even if he tried to deny it to himself. Truthfully, it was the only way to learn about her. In the presence of others, she was selectively mute and distant.

The attic smelled of fresh lavender and sandalwood oils and the window was left wide open. It was like Finn had just left the place, leaving his essence behind. Mags had been correct in saying the room was a complete chaos of forgotten junk, meaning he'd be working on sorting it out. Taking off his shirt, Peeta went to sit at the windowsill and took a moment to contemplate the garden. He wasn't disappointed as he saw Katniss making some sort of crown made out of flowers she'd picked from the garden. She was murmuring, probably talking with her Prim. Speak louder, Peeta mentally commanded.

As if she had heard him, Katniss orally announced she had finished it, "Look Prim just as I used to do for you, since you loved wearing them. Every spring you would nag me to make you one, tugging on my arm until I caved and went to pick wild flowers with you. Today, I'll be wearing them in your honor."

Peeta's hands found a notebook and started to trace and draw the scene down below, how her face radiantly smiled at the clear blue sky and how he wished she'd do just once for him.

Katniss started to twirl, imitating the way Prim would often do, making herself dizzy. She had overdone it, causing her to lose her balance and fall. Her frightened scream alerted Peeta, causing him to sprint down the stairs and find her still on the floor. His arms held her to his chest, taking in her scent and enjoying having her warmth within his arms. Katniss too stunned allowed his hold longer than she would have liked.

"I'm fine. You may let go, Master."

As Peeta loosened his grip, Katniss noticed his lack of shirt. Her face flushed, causing her even more embarrassment. She tried to look away, but her eyes betrayed her. In the light of day, she could see his defined muscles, rising from his torso and abdomen with a spattering of dark blonde hair. She had touched that chest unintentionally more than once, and here it was right in front of her. Katniss felt how her breath got ragged and her eyes glazed over, as her mind decided a replay of their nights together. She was back in that bed, and he was on top of her. Her hands were entangled in his sweaty hair, as his lips tortured her neck. He was marking her. Please stop, she had said, but no one could hear, not even her. She had been silent.

A touch on her cheek brought her back to the present. His eyes looked darker and concerned. As he tried to get closer, Katniss moved back and used her hands as barrier.

"I-I'm fine. Just let me leave, Master."

"Peeta. You can call me by my given name. I just wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself or hit your head. Are you having trouble with your vision? Feeling nauseous? Mags!"

"Don't! Please, don't call on Mags. She has enough things to do… I didn't hit my head. I was just being silly and got dizzy. Nothing to worry about. I'll go to my cell and rest until supper."

Peeta was still in her way and she didn't dare touch him again. He was also panting. Had he run to her? Where was he? Why was he home? Keeping her eyes on his face, "P-peeta, I-I promise to rest." They were not privy to the fact their seemingly innocent interlude was being watched.

"You need to be careful… soon we'll know if… I thought maybe this had been a dizzy spell caused by-"

Both of them turned to the sound of a slamming door. Finnick had arrived and by the sound of it not in a celebratory mood. Peeta's hands grabbed Katniss, "Things will be better, Katniss. I promise they will." Just as swiftly as he had come, he left her alone. She could hear them talking, their kissing. Everyday it was the same routine. Instead for her, all she had as company was the despairing wait of damnation.


	7. PART VII

******PART VII**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick kept drinking the sour drink, in hopes of forgetting…nothing could erase the image engraved in his mind. His Peeta had grown attached to the female. He'd been standing there, practically naked, panting and worried over her. Wasn't it enough that he had claimed ownership of his Peeta in front of her? Did she need to be reminded? Maybe it was Peeta who needed to be schooled on how wrong this infatuation was.

It was unlawful, and it was a betrayal to their declared vows. They sworn their love and faithfulness to each other at their matching ceremony. Not everyone promised it, never a guarantee that matched couples will be incorruptible and durable. After all, it was the work of formulas designed by some genius mathematician for Panem's database linking a man to his match. Algorithms could get it wrong…But they hadn't been inaccurate in their case. Finnick truly loved Peeta, and until recently he believed Peeta loved him back.

Old Mags had tried to stay with him, but he'd been a recalcitrant child and snapped at her to leave him the fuck alone. Nothing could sooth his insecurities and jealousy, only one person could. And what was that person doing at the moment? He was in the attic, painting a baby's portrait, or so he said. Finnick dreaded what he would find if he stormed into that room. His gut told him there would be more than one drawing of kitty Kat, and not the innocent kind.

For the first time in his life, Finnick envied another person. It was completely ridiculous and irrational. Finnick Odair was one of the most coveted men in the Capitol. Almost four years ago, he'd been offered so much by men wanting to own him. He had flirted and given in on occasion, but never had he accepted the offers. It was foolish if he had wanted to be in control of his future. He would choose his temporary plaything until his match had been determined by a computer read-out. No one ever had captured his heart, it had all been lust and greed intertwined. As the Reaping date approached, he welcomed it willing it to be his turn and accepted his fate. Peeta Mellark was chosen for him and he didn’t regret waiting for him.

Another sip, and he threw the tumbler against the wall shattering into pieces, leaving behind a stain on the cream-colored wall. Impotency had taken hold over him, while the rage bubbled inside. He wanted to take it out… on someone. Finnick looked to the garden, seeing them standing there, talking. He strode toward the indoor patio. It had been there since before he'd been born. His father had barely stood in it. It had been his partner's doing.

Finnick remembered running around in the garden, hiding from Mags. Seneca Crane had never shown him love, and one day he had told him why. He wasn’t older than five years, always getting into mischief, spoiled by Mags.

In his zealousness to outrun Mags, he'd tripped and broken a statue. It had fallen and ruined some delicate flowers. Crane had found him, while Mags cowered by his side.

_"You little shit! Look what you've done! You're disgusting and you've ruined my life. He doesn't love me anymore… all he cares about is you! If I could I would get rid of you forever! Get him out of my sight, you good for nothing bitch! And you better clean this up and keep him out of my garden."_

Finnick felt five years old again, afraid of his other father, the one who despised him, saw him as an intruder. Nevertheless, he never understood why Crane believed Tristan Odair loved his son more. He was mostly away, on business, as his position in the government demanded it. It afforded them so many luxuries and the highest regard of Capitol society.

Once again, Finnick felt like a meddler between his Peeta and their Kat.

Letting his rage take over, Finnick decimated with his bare hands everything in sight. He teared down the flowers and looked for anything that would help him destroy any trace of life. The fountain was left askew, the water flowing and flooding the garden. The tree was left standing, for he could not rip it from the root.

"Where are you now, Crane? Come and beat me now, bitch!"

He dropped on the bench, gripping his head. This wasn't him, no one should be able to defeat him. Why did he feel like he already lost Peeta? The guilt was all on him, though. He'd been the one to force Peeta into being the sire of their first son, and he hadn't wanted to the one. Why didn't he listen? If he'd been the one with Katniss things would've stayed the same…

He could still fix this. If she wasn't pregnant for a second time, he could send her back to the Hob. He could write-up some excuse for a provisional license, that would free them from upholding the Law. This way he would have Peeta with no female diversion.

"Who's this Crane that’s gotten you so riled up?”

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta had heard something break, but had stayed inside the attic. At least, he'd made some breakthrough on Darius Heavensbee-Undersee's portrait. Even so his attention had been thwarted by his compulsion to draw Katniss. Using his best stock, Peeta started depicting her likeness as never before. In this one, she was bare and welcoming him inside her body. He'd portrayed himself in a blurred shadow overtaking her, taking and giving pleasure.

In school, he'd been taught about myths and demons, about monsters and witches. Here, he was an incubus preying on a woman to mate with. It was sinister, making him feel wretched. Peeta tore it apart.

He thought it was best to rest and continue in the morning. As he was tidying things up, he heard noises from the garden. Through the attic’s window, Peeta saw Finnick in a rampage destroying anything within his grasp. He'd never seen him in such a state. He'd been hot and cold for some days, wanting to dominate and claim him one day, and the next, he'd be distant, erecting a wall around him. Peeta wondered if something had gone wrong at work. He was unaware of the real motives behind the violent outburst.

When he arrived at the entrance to the patio, Finnick was looking at the damage he'd inflicted. His hands and arms were covered in scratches and blood was dripping from deeper wounds. Abruptly, he hollered at no one and dropped to the still standing bench. His body caved in itself, in defeat and frustration. Peeta felt compelled to ease his pain, to find how he could help him. He asked who had disturbed him so, and silence was the answer.

Finnick tensed and stared at the flooded ground. Peeta walked closer with caution, with his hands at his sides.

"Seneca Crane was my other father. This garden was his, for his use only. He hated my existence in his life. When I was about five years old, I was caught playing here. I tripped and a statue fell, breaking into pieces. It also ruined a flower bed containing his most valued flower. Mags couldn't protect me. He would've beaten her to death if she had. He sneered and shook me, screaming on my face saying I had taken my father's love from him. A grown man was jealous of a child. I never understood, since my father really wasn't around much. From that day on, I stayed away from this place and from him. I didn't believe him, Peeta. Once they went their separate ways, my father never looked for another companion. To me, my father's only love had been Seneca Crane. I don't want to be Seneca Crane."

Peeta was aghast, not knowing how to respond to such heartbreaking reveal into Finn’s dark past. It was clear, Finnick needed him tonight as his friend, but also as his lover. Finnick was quicker and fell to his knees in front of him, nuzzling his face on his midriff. "I don't want to be Seneca Crane," Finnick kept whispering over and over. Peeta stayed frozen in place, with only his hands moving to stroke his hair. "You're not this man. You will love our child, and we'll love him back. Our son will know he's loved, that his fathers adore him. Not all men should be fathers…but the Law demands and makes them so.”

Finnick shook his head and looked up. His eyes met Peeta's, it was then Peeta saw the tears on his cheeks. "Is it the Law that binds you to me? Not love… Are you going to leave me, Peeta?" Peeta struggled for words again, feeling Finnick's stare on him, waiting for a reply. Truthfully, it had never crossed his mind to break his union to Finnick. His feelings towards him hadn't changed. "I swore to you my loyalty and my love. I don't intend to break my word. It is not the Law that binds us together. Soon we'll be fathers to our son, a boy that looks like me, just like you wanted. What's gotten into you? You don't usually drink this much, to the point of intoxication. Has something happened at work?"

Peeta had left out Katniss. It wasn’t the most opportune moment, to express his intentions of keeping her with them. In Finnick's current state things could me misconstrued, resulting in more unrest between them. It couldn’t be that this episode had been caused by his infatuation with her, for there was no way Finnick had any knowledge of it.

Finnick composed his face, hiding his pain at the omission in Peeta's words. He was denying the fact he wanted the woman they brought into their home. It had to be corrected. He knew the consequences of letting this unattended. It wasn't the first time some inexperienced boy decided to play with the opposite sex.

Finnick had played with temptation long ago, when his father was still alive. She had been beautiful, more so than kitty Kat. She was the forbidden fruit, belonging to a friend of his father's. Her name had been Annie. She had been miserable and he was merely curious boy. Raging hormones between unsupervised teenagers led to various sexual encounters. Finnick had been cavalier, thinking no one would find out about their illicit relations. It had been his father, coming early one afternoon. They'd been in his room, fucking on his bed. Just one word from his father and Annie disappeared. Once again, the Law prevailed.

Blood had smeared on Peeta's clothes, by now the flow had stopped and dried on Finnick's skin. Finnick took hold of Peeta's hips, "I'm yours… I love you, Peet. Never forget.”

He proceeded to open his pants, pushing them down letting them fall to the wet ground. His knees were staring to hurt, but the pain centered him. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it. He found Peeta had no underwear, which delighted him. "Are you trying to seduce me? 'Cause let me tell you, it's working…"

"Oh fuck… baby. Ah… let's go to our room-”

With a popping noise, Finnick moved back, "No, I want you here, now. Are you denying me?" Peeta shook his head, and stopped his protests. "Are you about to come? Be a good boy, and come."

"Damn… you getting drunk makes you more romantic and an animal giving head. Fuck, I can't even walk."

Finnick was having problems standing up, as his legs had grown numb. With a bit of difficulty, he sat beside Peeta on the bench. For a few minutes, the only sound between was their joint heavy breathing, and inside their chest their hearts beating.

"I certainly wouldn't mind having you walk naked all the time… we would never leave the house, like in the beginning. We were insatiable back then, one look and I'd have you bend over the closest piece of furniture. Can we be like that again?"

Peeta grinned, looking around at the damaged fountain still dripping water. "I guess it will have to be now, before the baby comes. After that, our lives will change." Finnick's hand touched his chin, moving his gaze towards him, "Do you want to be a father, Peeta?" Peeta stared back and nodded, "At first, I was hesitant. I hadn't thought about it, but now after holding Darius in my arms… knowing that life we created is an extension of me…that needs us.”

It didn't escaped Finnick when Peeta said, "an extension of me," not _us_. It hurt him deeply. His lips descended on Peeta's, quickly entering his mouth letting his tongue tangle with his, letting him taste himself. Faces drawn together, they stopped at the same time, eye to eye, Finnick whispered, "We shall have our son. He will be loved, for he will have his two fathers who'll love him like no other." Mentally he added, and  _she shall be gone_.

Unbeknownst to them, their encounter was witnessed by a pair of gray eyes. Katniss stayed hidden and watched as Peeta and Finnick came together in the midst of the chaos surrounding them. Finnick's words, his statement that he felt like an intruder was far from the truth. She was the real unintended interloper.

 


	8. PART VIII

**PART VIII**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was looming over her, time was almost up for knowing if she had fulfilled part of her duty. So far it wasn't the only thing on her mind these days. Katniss felt remorseful for being a spectator her Masters's intimate moment. It didn't feel right and it kept plaguing her thoughts. Mags kept insisting for her to simply tell her what was bothering her. The old woman was wiser and knew there was something she was hiding. Maybe she feared the possibility of another failed impregnation and that Katniss had bled early and was concerned about her fate if the Masters found out. No, there hadn't been any blood, and there might not be any for many months.

Katniss stared out her window, gazing at what remained of her sanctuary. No efforts had been made to fix it, only the bench remained unscathed. For some reason, she believed Finnick had destroyed it to spite her, to take something else from her. It was absurd to think she could be the cause, for she was no threat to their relationship. She was no one.

The very next day she stayed inside her cell, avoiding meeting any of them. She feared her blushing skin would give her away, a telling of what she had seen. It was a bit disconcerting that it re-played in her mind, the sounds they'd made and how Peeta looked as he let go. They were lovers…they were friends. It was difficult to see them as monsters, but she was their prisoner, another piece of property they could discard when they grew tired of it.

Staying inside her room had simply made her brood over a plan to escape. For Katniss couldn't deny she was afraid. She had seen Finnick's rage and its effects. What if she had been seen? What would he had done then? Would have Peeta intervened in her behalf?

The cycle would begin anew, changing into worrying about the pregnancy. If she indeed was with child, the next step would be to be examined and screened for the determination of the sex of the fetus.

If it was a girl…

Katniss dreaded that more than anything, for she knew it would be the final push towards attempting a getaway.

If it was a boy…

She would have to wait it out for months, then leave her son and sacrifice her life knowing she would never see him again. For she knew it was doubtful this home will welcome after the delivery. The mothers had only one purpose and once it was accomplished, they were sent to another couple. It was the way of women, to be trapped in cycles, the biological cycle of their bodies, a cycle of breeding vessel that reign over their lives. Once more, Katniss found herself wishing for sterility. It had to be a better outcome, to be working in some field, than a body mindlessly passed around birthing babies to the privileged men of Panem.

Prim came to her thoughts, and Katniss prayed once more she hadn't survived. It was enough she was living this hell, but not her little sister. She was meant for better things, not to be tarnished by the cruelties of a tyrant society. The Republic must die, Katniss murmured to the air, wishing the words would spark a firestorm nothing could withstand it, obliterating everything in its way. Her eyes had stop seeing, glazed over as her thoughts overwhelmed her. An emptiness enveloped Katniss. She was hollow endless pit and believed she would always feel this way. As if time had stopped, a silence surrounded her. She closed her eyes, letting this moment calm her tormented spirit.

A knock on her door announced the presence of another person in the room. It was one of her Master. Peeta was standing leaning against the threshold. His blue eyes gazed upon her in scrutiny for a few seconds. Katniss decided she was up for the challenge and stared back without barely blinking.

"I think I need a second opinion… and since Mags isn't much of a choice, you will do. I need your completely honesty, as Finn and Mags will love anything I do unconditionally and this is kind of important. Would you do me this favor, Katniss?"

As much as she tried, Katniss had difficulty keeping an impassive countenance, as his words sunk in. He wanted a favor… what kind of favor? She was confused. Peeta saw it on her face, and gave her an encouraging smile willing her to speak freely, to say anything.

"What's the favor, Ma-Peeta?"

His response was a bigger smile, with dimples and white teeth showing. Peeta felt like he had gained a point in his favor, as Katniss had corrected herself and called him by his name. Now, the next part was getting her to go with him to the attic. He sighed and took two steps forward.

"It's a simple task. All I need from you is your opinion on my latest piece. It's for an important client. It's a portrait of his youngest son, Darius, a lovely baby boy, not a year old yet. I've been working on it practically nonstop for days and I really want to be done with it. I would like to know what you think… if it pleases you to come out of this room and breathe new air."

Peeta winked for good measure. The reaction was immediate on Katniss, as her face reddened against her will. She couldn't deny Peeta Mellark was charming and handsome… It wasn't difficult to imagine why Finnick Odair had been so blessed to be matched to this young man. They were perfect for each other. But not so completely perfect, they still needed her womb.

With her eyes hiding behind her hair, she replied, "Fine. I will give you my honest opinion, but I'm warning you, I might be too honest." She even used her finger, pointing in a threatening manner. Peeta chuckled, "Give it your best try, I can take it." He wasn't backing down, and he enjoyed seeing some life return in Katniss' face. It assured him that his decision to bring her out of her self-proclaimed exile was the right one.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"He's a bit heavy, isn't he? I do like his chubby rosy cheeks…I'm almost tempted to touch them. You've made it look so lifelike."

Peeta stood, resting his body against a long desk on the side of the room. The window was covered by a curtain, but still allowing natural light to stream inside. Katniss was as close as she could get in front of the painting, meticulously inspecting every aspect. She was looking for anything that she could critique, but there was nothing wrong with it. She felt cheated and frustrated.

"Hey! Don't huff at the painting, it hasn't done anything to you…So, what's the final verdict?"

She swiveled in his direction, forehead creased, "It's perfect. It is truly beautiful… as if the child lives in the painting. How did you do that?" Peeta walked and stood in front of his creation, avoiding Katniss' stare.

"It's a mystery to me… a gift given to me by some higher power. I don't know."

Katniss slapped his arm, and shook her head in disbelief. "Stop your posturing, you are looking for more compliments to feed your enormous ego. You must have had the best teachers since an early age and now you have surpassed them all. Your next piece should be something completely unexpected. I know… Paint me!"

After she blurted it, her eyes bugged out and her hands covered her mouth. It was a completely presumptuous thing to say. Even more, a condemnable offense by the Law. Immediately, she tried to apologize, "I'm sorry Master, please forgive my untoward behavior. I'll leave you now." Acting contrite and submissive was against her nature, but Katniss had been taught well, back at the Hob what was expected of her. She dropped to her knees, her head down waiting for punishment. A hand brushed over her head, causing her to flinch, but nothing else happened.

"Nothing would please me more… But it would be an act of treason," Peeta muttered. Katniss was able to grasp the words left unsaid. He wanted to, maybe too much.

"I have another requested piece, and this one is for President Snow. I've been sort of evading it. I can't any longer or my reputation will suffer and our lives could be affected as well. Finnick needs me to do well."

His hand touched her chin, forcing her face upwards. Still, she kept her eyes downcast. "Katniss… I'm not your Master. I would like to be your friend. I won't hurt you and if it's within my power I will keep you here with us. I don't want to see you return to that ghastly place. You would have Mags and you would be able to see your children grow. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Her eyes met his gaze, gray steel burning.

"Wonderful? Is this a game to you? You are not my Master anymore? Does that mean that I'm free to leave this place, return to my old life? Will I be able to return to my family? Wake up! Look around you, where do I fit in your life? I'm your slave, never your friend or equal. My purpose is clearly defined by your Law and once it is done, I'll be gone. You will get your precious baby boy, one you can paint until your hands bleed and grow numb for all I care. Now, if it doesn't displease you Master, I'll be returning to my cell."

She stood by her own steam, and walked out of the room. A room that smelled of him, that was all his. She felt disgusted with herself and her attraction to this man. Another aspect to add to her mental rumination, her conflicting emotions towards her Master. Even now, Katniss had to admit her words were her weak attempt at revenge. But Peeta Mellark didn't kill her parents or was he to blame for her situation. The Republic was the real culprit with its Law, all-encompassing and unyielding.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick arrived home, as usual he went in search of his Peeta. He wasn't at the dinner table, only Mags was there cleaning the surface fastidiously. He asked Mags where Peeta was and she shrugged and uttered that he'd stayed in the attic all the day. Finnick decided to clean himself up before venturing into Peeta's realm. It probably meant he wanted to finish quickly the Heavensbee's portrait. Thinking the name, made Finnick breakout in goosebumps. There was no point reminiscing about the past. It was to be undisturbed and forgotten.

Refreshed after his shower, Finnick now stood in front of the door. Turning the handle, he pushed forward finding there was no light. "Peeta? Why is there no light in here…" Finnick turned the lights on, finding Peeta was sitting in a corner. A finished canvas was in his lap.

"Is this worth everything, Finn?"

"What do you mean, Peet? What's got you all depressed? So, you finished it. I'm sure your clients will be pleased. Darius is a beautiful boy."

Peeta kept staring at the painting, "Is having a child worth it? I was convincing myself it was… but now I'm not so sure. H-how many lives have to be ruined, in order for us to have our son? I-I offered her what I thought was w-what she would want… she threw it back in face. A slave. A prisoner. S-she called me her Master. And for some reason it hurt, as if she was wielding a knife into my chest. Fuck, Finn, I think I'm losing my mind."

Finnick took the painting from his grasp, setting it back on the easel. He was stalling, for he knew the time had come to say the appropriate words. "Are you drunk? Trying to up my recent display of drunkenness and disorderly… Look, Peet I don't know. Let's think the Law didn't state we had to procreate. Would you want a son? I would say yes. Having another piece of you around is worth everything I own. As for our Kat, you need to keep the boundaries. She did it for you, for she knows her place. You've forgotten yours. Face the fact, we are her Masters, for she belongs to us for the time being. In merely days, we'll know and if it doesn't happen, she will go back to the Hob. That's real. Turning her into being your friend, it's not real. Now, get off your ass and let's go eat and ruin the dinner table for Mags to go crazy over after we eat."

Peeta took the proffered hand and stood, his face inches from Finn's. Green eyes met his blue ones, lips found each other brushing at first and then aggressively staking claim. Sucking and nibbling, Finn was the first one to pull back. His hot breath teased Peeta's neck, as he sighed, "This is real. You and me." With his hand still within Finnick's hold, Peeta let himself be taken without resistance. His exterior appearance was composed and accepting, while inside all he could think was not real. She was not real.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

A doctor had come and gone, assuring Finnick and Peeta, that in eight months they would be fathers. The test had been positive, no more visits to their room, no more three nights in their bed. Katniss was in daze, sitting alone in her cell. Her food was left untouched, even after Mags had pestered her about eating for two now. One uncertainty was over, but another was imminent and more terrifying.

The doctor had said with another test at the seventh week, the sex could be determined. In hushed tones, the man had given Finnick and Peeta the option of aborting the child if it was a girl and try again. Finnick nodded, while Peeta had turned white as sheet, looking faint. "It is completely confidential. It is not under the purview of the Law… but our profession has made leeway for this type of situations. Congratulations! I'll be back in a few weeks to check on the progress. If anything should change, call me immediately. Have a good day, Mr. Odair, Mr. Mellark."

Katniss had stayed quiet throughout the examination, nodding and shaking her head in reply to the doctor's questions. As she'd been about to leave the room, Finnick's words stopped her, "Mags will be in charge of you. Do not attempt anything, for I will not be so forgiving. Your priority is giving us a healthy boy. I don't need to remind you of that, do I? You're excused."

At last, the Master saw fit to remind her of the only reason she was still breathing. The breeding vessel was no longer empty. But what had taken root inside her womb? A blue eyed blonde boy? Or a dark-haired, gray eyed girl destined to breed more potential enslavers?


	9. PART IX

**PART IX**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Five more weeks…

Until they will find out the sex of the child growing inside her. Katniss had nothing but the wait and hope for a boy. It was clear that it if wasn't things would turn dire for her, with no other option other than being returned to the Hob. She tried not to think of the other alternative, the one the doctor murmured.

It was forbidden by the Law, but it seemed there were instances transgressions were allowed among the privileged. The Odairs were well-known and respected by the opulence of the house. Finnick even had a woman in his house, who Katniss suspected was closer to him than he knew. Even his work depended on the Odair reputation, allowing him enough influence over changes for the greater good of the Republic of Panem.

True to his word, her only company had been Mags and her constant nagging and worrying. Katniss simply had not appetite and whatever she managed to ingest, ended being expelled later. So sickness and fear were her best friends, in her confinement. From her lone window, she would gaze down at the garden, left in complete devastation, not even the birds would visit it now.

Time was her enemy. Before she wanted it to go fast, to find out if she was pregnant, now she wanted it to stop from moving forward. Once the date arrived, there was no turning back, no second chances. Katniss was under no illusion that she would be welcomed to stay. Finnick had made his views on her transparent, if he could, he would've taken her away already. Why he felt threatened by her? A woman with no powers or rights, no influences or connections. She was a means to an end. And this deadline would in turn determine her fate.

As for Peeta, he didn't search for her or come to her door. It was as if she'd been obliterated from his consciousness. All she knew was through Mags, who told her he was too busy now with the President's commission. Katniss wondered if the baby's painting had been deemed a success. Maybe Peeta had to redo it and that was why he stayed away. This very night she could hear the music coming from the attic. It had no words, only consisted of melodies. With each creaking noise from upstairs, it filled her with anticipation, perhaps he would need her opinion once more.

With nothing to entertain her, Katniss sat at the windowsill imagining snapshots of her previous life. She could hear the sounds of the forest, the creaking and swooshing of the leaves and branches. She could almost taste the rain on her tongue, and hear her sister's giggles as she tickled her. She could smell her father's masculine scent after a long day. And see her mother's ash-blonde hair fluttering in the wind. She will never see them again. She envied their quick deaths, for them the suffering was over, while hers had only just begun.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Cinna was back in his office, giving him a devious smirk. "So… tell me how's it going with the insufferable waiting? I would be sweating bullets and biting anyone's head off… wait you're already doing that! How's your Peeta? Is he finally catching up with the father feelings? Last time we talked, you said he was a bit hesitant about the whole thing and you were concerned. As for me, I can't wait to see that baby. Next time, you have to be the father. Can you imagine your son? It is understandable why Crane was so jealous of you. I mean Finn, you are the most handsome man in Panem. There's no contest. When you were matched, a lot of men wept. Heavensbee had to be taken to the hospital, his blood pressure spiked and had tachycardia… You almost gave that man a heart attack literally, Finn boy."

Finnick sneered at Cinna's jocularity, which clearly clashed with his current state of mind. "Don't mention that man's name in my presence again, or I won't be held responsible, not even by your partner, for breaking your fucking nose, Cinnie. Peeta is currently under a lot of pressure with the President's commissioned piece. He doesn't even talk with me much lately. He's cooped up in the attic at all hours of the day. He even woke me up with his instrumental music at midnight. Supposedly, it helps him create… I want him back, in our bed. I miss him… As for the baby, he's changed his views about our impending fatherhood. It's his child after all."

Cinna sat in an empty chair and frowned at Finnick, "You mean "our child"? It sounds to me there's more underneath the carpet, Finn." Finnick pushed and tossed papers from his desk, avoiding Cinna's right-on-the-spot remark. "I-I'm sure everything will fine, once we know the sex of the baby and then his arrival. Yes, I'm looking forward to holding a living piece of the love of my life. I can picture our son in my mind with Peeta's blue eyes, nose and lips. And then _she_ 'll be gone for good from our lives."

" _She_? Not gonna keep the breeding vessel for your baby? What's wrong, Finn?" Cinna wasn't going to give up his inquiry, and Finnick felt like idiot for falling into his trap. "You've got me. Since you're my closest friend, apart from Peeta, I will confide in you. From the beginning I asked Peeta to be the one. I wanted our first son to be sired by him. He protested wanting me to be the father, that he hadn't really pictured children in our future. I cited the Law requiring it from us. We selected, well I saw him look at her, and I knew it had to be her. She was striking, with her defiant glare in that auction room. I should've known… Peeta has been sheltered from some crude realities. I think the only woman he's been exposed to his entire life has been Mags. I didn't foresee the consequences of introducing a woman into our lives."

Cinna sighed, "I've never seen you this vulnerable before, not even… Finn I'm sure it's just a crush, nothing serious. Maybe let the boy fuck it out of his system. The novelty will wear off and he'll be laughing at the fuss you've made of the whole thing. But, I definitely understand your reasoning on returning her to the Hob after the birth. It won't do if he gets too attached. It is frowned upon and against the Law. How your father managed to keep Mags in his home boggles my mind… but do have to say she's wonderful to have around. Posh gorgeous people with your connections allows you to get away with anything."

"I mean, I think the only citizen that has women in his home, is the President. Sure, they are bound and gagged, but still they are females. If they work the fields and bear the children, might as well clean and cook inside our homes. You should totally start lobbying for that amendment with the added public punishment of castration to those who are caught with their pants down. Let's be real, a cock will fuck any available hole at its disposal. Therefore, a clause has to be included that will dispel such temptation. Try to smile, and stop furrowing your forehead you'll get wrinkles. Nasty things. If I see another line, I'll have to consider visiting Dr. Aurelius and his shop of horrors. Did you see how he cleaned up Snow's face? Yeah… I better leave you to your thoughts. Kiss Peeta for me… and pinch that delectable ass of his too."

By the time the door closed after Cinna left, Finnick was lost in his sorting through government projects and articles, organizing them according to priority. But it was futile to pretend to work, when his concentration was elsewhere going over Cinna's words. Could he allow Peeta to take Katniss without the purpose of procreation, only for the pursuing of sexual pleasure? Was it just a phase, caused by Peeta's inexperience?

His heart only wanted to protect what was his, for he feared if he lost Peeta's love, it would mean their downfall. It signified death to the transgressor… and without Peeta, Finnick would not live.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta was standing in one of the many living rooms of the Presidential Palace. He'd been called to discuss the President's painting. He was perspiring profusely, even his hands were damp. He tried to wiped them off on his pants. He stopped his futile intent, as he was startled by the voice of the President's assistant.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mellark. I'm so glad you could join us today. I'm sorry to say the President is occupied with other matters at the moment, but sent me instead. Would you like a beverage or something to eat, perhaps?"

The balding man, with a slight twitch on his left eye, stared at him from top to bottom, making Peeta feel inadequate. The man wore clothes with the President's seal in a golden thread, complementing the red cotton of his shirt. Gold, red and black were the colors of the Republic. Peeta made of note of it, for his painting, to the color scheme in harmony with the Palace's decoration.

"No, thank you, mister eh?"

The man gave him another once over, "Assistant Cray, at your service. Shall we go ahead with a guided tour? Before we do, there is a confidentiality requirement. Whatever you see or hear inside the President's home is never to be spoken outside it, understood?" Peeta nodded, but Cray's glare made it him correct his blunder. "Understood," he complied.

Turning around, the man opened the double doors to the next room. It was a grand room, crowded with seating arrangements throughout. Four sets of chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, and a small fountain was the focal point in the center of the room.

"This room, as you can see is used for informal gatherings and special parties held at the Palace. It can also be cleared and used as an extra ballroom. The President's son likes to play hide and seek in here. Now, through these doors you'll be able to see the large backyard. It is where the fireworks are displayed on every anniversary commemorating of the Law's signing. To this other side you'll see the official ballroom, where the President's union ceremony was held. You may look at the current artwork displayed. The President only wants the best. These pieces are antiques, as you can see remnants of a long forgotten past. Your work will not likely be displayed here, though. Let's continue to the kitchens-"

A boy with medium brown hair pushed through the door that lead to the outside. He was breathless and flushed, looking like he was running from something or someone. "Alistair! What are you doing? You should be with your tutor, not running around like a rabid dog! You know your father won't tolerate disobedience. I won't cover for you any longer, young Snow."

The boy grinned at Cray, as he did not care or heed the warning. Then he noticed the presence of a stranger. "Hey mister, do you like to play hide and seek? Can you run really fast? Mr. Abernathy must be still asleep under the tree. He likes to take sips from a flask, when he thinks no one is looking. But his breath smells really bad. So, do you want to play, mister?" Once again, he showed his teeth smiling big at Peeta. Peeta smiled back, but before he could respond, Cray exploded. "You mind your manners. This is Peeta Mellark, one of the Capitol's most revered artists. He is here to paint a portrait for your father. Would you excuse me, Mr. Mellark? I'll be back soon. I just need to get this troublemaker back to his tutor."

Grabbing the boy's earlobe, Cray pushed him outside, leaving Peeta alone to peruse over the old paintings in solitude. What he found astonished him. The scenes depicted were completely forbidden by the Law. Many were of naked women in different explicit sexual poses. Others depicted women and men kissing, while others showed men and women in various states of sexual euphoria. Some were extremely damaged by the passage of time, yellowed out and full of scratches and holes. But there was one painting in particular that caused Peeta to stiffen in place. This piece was of a woman being held back by two men, while another pushed inside her. Her face showed her distress and pain, tears pouring down her swollen face. The more he stared, the face changed into Katniss, and the man's face was his own. He remembered his own drawing, seeing himself as a demon. He felt sick, and covered his mouth. He needed to find a washroom and fast. Walking and opening doors at random wasn't taking him closer to one and he feared he would simply had to expel the contents of his stomach right on the President's floor.

When Peeta was about to simply go outside, someone appeared. It was a woman, hunched over, dressed in a red uniform. Her breasts and her genitals were exposed. She walked until she was only a few feet from him. Her hair had been shorn and her mouth… it had been sewn shut. She was an _Avox_. Peeta's stomach churned violently and he ran from the room towards the Presidential's backyard. Bent over puking his guts out in the bushes, was where the President found him.

"I've never seen anyone have such a visceral reaction to that painting. I rather believe you were already harboring a stomach bug, Mr. Mellark. The men of my Republic are strong and resilient, and won't fall to pieces like the weak and immoral women you saw in my collection. Don't you worry, Cray will receive his corresponding chastisement for neglecting his duties. I will continue the tour if you don't mind. I would very much like for you to see my rose garden, and we will discuss the subject of the piece I've commissioned you."

In silence, Peeta followed obediently. His stomach ached, and his mouth tasted of vile. His hands were trembling. He was sure it was anxiety from being so close to the man with the power to sent him to his death, without misgiving. The cloying smell of roses announced they had arrived. The garden contained every variety of the flower, but Snow kept walking until only white roses surrounded them.

"Aren't they the most precious flower? Can you guess what I like about it? It looks pure and innocent, but if you aren't careful, its thorns will sting you, bleed you dry. Now, Mr. Mellark, let's discuss business. I've heard great things about you. Your reputation precedes you, and you've been recommended by my most esteemed citizens. Even Heavensbee requested a painting done by you."

"As for the subject of my piece… it is of a nature no one can know about. I demand complete discretion. It will be exhibited in a private chamber. I'm sure Cray spoke of the confidentiality clause. It will do you no good if you don't uphold this agreement and it will be detrimental to your partner, the illustrious Mr. Finnick Odair. So, Mr. Mellark, do you abide to this, swear to your President, to protect this painting from other eyes other than your own?"

Peeta tried to keep eye contact, but his stomach was ready to revolt. Snow's eyes were dark pools, staring intensely it felt like he would infiltrate his soul. When he was about to give his answer, Peeta was interrupted by two guards dragging a frail looking man. His torso was bare, covered in welts. His hands and ankles were bound. His dark hair was matted and covered in dried blood. His only piece of clothing was a pair of tattered pants.

"Kneel," Snow commanded. The man remained standing, with his head downcast. Snow grunted his displeasure and gestured with his hands. The guards pushed the man to his knees. The man whimpered in pain. "Look at me." The man didn't need the guards this time. Gray eyes… so much like Katniss' eyes, stared cold and empty. The man's mouth had been sewn shut, but it seemed it had been redone before from the healed marks and scars on his face. "This one has been a hard one to break. A deserter of the Republic, found in the wilderness, living like an animal. He's my personal project, and your subject. I want you to paint my Avox. I want something to remember him by, after his death. Now, Mr. Mellark, what say you?"

Peeta arranged his face, hoping he was successful in hiding his intensifying horror.

"Yes, Mr. President, I will abide to our agreement."

"Good. I will leave you, with my pet. Sketch away, Mr. Mellark."

The President left them in the garden, the two guards still in place, and the man kneeling at Peeta's feet. Fuck my life, Peeta mentally cursed.


	10. PART X

**PART X**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick kept tossing and turning, without finding himself any closer to falling completely asleep. Peeta hadn't come down, and it was past midnight. He'd barely eaten a morsel at dinner, and immediately escaped to the attic. Having enough with his insomnolence, Finnick went in search of his Peeta. Fuck the commissioned paintings, he thought.

The door was closed and no sound came from the room. Finnick knocked on the door, and received no reply. Deciding to simply enter, he opened it and found no Peeta inside. Where was he? Closing the door, he thought of another place Peeta would have gone into hiding. No lights illuminated over the destroyed indoor garden, but Finnick knew exactly where Peeta was. Remembering where the bench was situated, he walked in darkness towards its location.

"Go back to bed, Finn. I'll be there soon."

Finnick sat beside him and searched for the closest hand to grasp. Once he found it, he squeezed it. "Do you want me to fix the garden? I guess I should, if not it is a wasted space… we could transform it for another use-"

"Katniss loved it here. I think she spent all the time she could in this space, talking to her sister-"

Finnick flinched at the mention of _her_ , and he reacted back without restrain.

"Do you want to fuck her? Is that what keeps you up at night? Do you want to fuck her until you don't want anymore? Maybe you've done it already-"

Peeta closed his eyes, even if it would not help him find inner peace. Dropping Finnick's hand, he clenched both hands on his forehead.

"It hurts me, that you would think of me capable of betraying you. No, I'm not here wasting the night away 'cause I want to fuck her. I have a question of my own. Did you destroy it only because it reminds you of your other father?"

Finnick huffed, not liking Peeta's prying into his past. Finn didn't miss the deflection tactic. Now it was Peeta who found his hand, squeezing back.

"I had a moment of weakness, that resulted in an alcohol induced-rage and this place suffered for the consequences. I needed to vent. I think it was a better choice, than someone. I won't deny it was providence I didn't see Katniss on my way here…perish the thought. As for Seneca Crane, that bastard may rot in the deepest pits of hell before I call him my father. There are things from my past…things I've hidden from you, and from myself. You only know very superficially that I used my physical attributes to get ahead. But there are more sinister things lurking in the shadows… Life in the high society of the Capitol implies many skeletons are buried behind closed doors. I don't want to discuss them, Peeta. It is safer that way, for the both of us. Why are you here in the darkness? Why haven't you come to bed? How did it go with Snow?"

Finnick stopped his barrage of questions, as he was breathless and frustrated with Peeta's removed emotional state.

"Have you ever been inside the Presidential Palace?"

"Yes, with my father. I was very young, but I remember the opulence and the men entering the many rooms. My father didn't take me there again. Personally, I haven't received an invitation."

Peeta touched Finnick's face, "Have you ever seen an Avox?"

"Once, that night. A woman. She was dressed in red. And her mouth-"

Peeta added the rest, "Was sewn shut. I saw one today, but her breasts and genitals were exposed. You told me, Snow had a new toy. I saw him, too. He must be our about our age, with dark hair and gray eyes, so reminiscent of Katniss… He is tall and must have been strong once, but now he's been beaten and looks emaciated. His eyes… a blank stare that made me wonder if his spirit still lies within him. Shit, Finn I'm not even supposed to be talking about this… every time I think of what I saw, my stomach turns. I fucking puked my guts out in the President's bushes. How am I going to survive making this piece for him? I gave him my word, and I'm bound to it, and so are you. Snow stood there waiting for my oath, I swore to uphold it. He owns our lives, Finn. All for a fucking painting of a condemned man. Snow wants to remember his toy after his execution. I would give anything to simply forget every aspect of what I witnessed inside that prison. Even his son wants to escape it. I-I want it to be over, Finn."

Finnick embraced Peeta, kissing his eyelids and mouth aimlessly. Inside his mind, he thought of ways to protect him and somehow erase all the cruelty Peeta observed. Impotency wasn't something he enjoyed.

Snow and his horror shows were just one of the best kept secrets in the Capitol. The Law was surely blind to certain transgressions, done behind the protection of privilege with very few willing to expose it, to be tried and be punished. Who would dare bring to justice the man responsible for the Law itself?

Like it was yesterday, his mind played back the day his father attested to the crime committed by Seneca Crane. His other father had no love for him, it had been blatant all throughout his young life. He even confessed his jealousy and disdain inside his beloved garden. But indifference and verbal abuse wasn't enough for Crane.

When Finnick was twelve, he was betrayed by the one sworn by the Law, to protect, nurture and love him, as a father should. His innocence and body were defiled for the sadistic enjoyment of a demented, resentful partner. Luckily, Finnick's father found them. He witnessed how his son had tried to scream and defend himself. His father tore Crane from him and proceeded to almost beat him to death. He stopped himself, but the damage was extensive to the face and torso. Crane was practically unrecognizable.

It was Mags who'd come to Finnick, holding him softly and sobbing for her boy. Also, it was the first time he saw her act violently against her father, demanding he do something, kill if he had to. He expected his father to explode and hit her, but strangely he simply stared at her and then embraced her. Her tears soddened his shirt, and her hands touched his face beseechingly.

How did this garden still exist? His father should have burned it down back then.

Tristan Odair had taken the stand, in front of every citizen of the Republic, declaring the annulment of his union to Seneca Crane, stating his testimony of his iniquity against his son, and demanding swift justice, death. Odair wasn't going to be appeased with just Crane dead, he asked for a public execution, to serve as warning to all those who thought this type of crime would remain exempt to the authority of the Law.

Seneca Crane was found guilty of the most vile offense under the Law, a father sexually abusing his child. But is death wasn't enough. Finnick never got his father back.

They walked back to their room, Finnick helping Peeta with his clothes, and Peeta reciprocating. Side by side, facing each other, in their bed, Finnick held Peeta closer.

"I wish I could delete this day from your mind… protect you from it tormenting you again. I know you think I'm cruel and dismissive, while your poor heart suffers from seeing all these disturbing things. I can't and won't allow them to consume me. You need to erect a wall, find it within you. It is the only way to survive, Peet. Even that man has done it. His detached affect is his way of coping with the hell he's enduring. I'm sure in the inside, he's screaming and ranting. We are screaming on the inside, Peeta. Don't be fooled by the cool and happy exteriors, everyone hides it under aloofness. But know this, I love you, and try to forget Snow's threat. Concentrate on finishing the commissioned painting as fast as you are able. Hide it from Mags, if she goes up there to clean after you. Lock the room. No one else can see it. No one. It would mean death for both of us…Now… let me love you, like I've wanted to do all night…"

Peeta turned on his back, using his hands to hold Finnick on top of him. He brushed his hands on his back, ending their trail on his backside, grasping it.

"Love me."

Afterwards, sleep finally caught up with them, but not before Finnick's last thought was that maybe thing were looking up.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

While the men of the house reconciled their differences, Katniss was left to contemplate her fate. Not even the morning sickness and Mags's hovering could make her forget, that a test would decide the rest of her life. Finnick stayed away from her, and didn't take part in any conversation pertaining to her. Peeta still gave a smile, but he didn't search for her company or asked her opinion on his art. His eyes and face appeared haggard. His latest painting seemed to be draining him of his usual happy disposition, leaving instead a ghost of himself. It was Finnick and his persistent attentions, that brought him back to life.

The testing day had arrived, the seventh week of her pregnancy. Both of the fathers to be were present, eager to know the result. Finnick acted confident that it was boy. Meanwhile, Peeta's legs were restless, as his knee kept bouncing. He pinched his nose, trying to ease the tension headache splitting his head in two. He couldn't fathom how calm Finnick conducted himself. He was completely sure there was nothing to worry about. Katniss kept her head down, sitting with her hands on her lap. But Peeta noticed she was kept pulling her fingers and biting her lower lip raw.

Finally, the doctor called them into his office. Silence permeated for several minutes, as the doctor read the test result.

"Well, Mr. Odair, Mr. Mellark, I have the most unfortunate news… the child is female. Everything seems in-between the normal ranges. As we discussed before, the option of terminating and trying again in a few months-"

"NO! NO! Please! Please! Don't kill my baby, I beg you… please. I'll do anything…"

Katniss had fallen to her knees in front of her Masters, pleading for the daughter she may never get to hold. Katniss immediately imagined her looking like her sister, with her blonde locks and blue eyes…Oh no, this has to be a nightmare… wake up, Katniss! Fucking wake up! She kept pleading, as she couldn't let them kill her baby. The doctor cleared his throat, looking expectantly for any of them to punish Katniss' insolence. Finnick wanted to throttle her for acting this way.

"GET. UP. Not another word out of you. Thank you, doctor. We'll be in touch."

Peeta heard the words, "the child is female," in loop inside his head. He was having a daughter, not a son; not the perfect version of himself that Finnick envisioned with his blue eyes and blonde curls. His eyes turned to Katniss, her body trembling, as she tried to hold her sobs, her arms trying to hold her together. He felt tempted to embrace her, but remembered where they were.

He had sired a daughter… a girl who would be taken from him, never to see her grow up, hold her in his arms, kiss her cheek good night. Once she was born, the Republic would dictate her destiny, to serve the greater good of Panem. They had been words before… but now he was fully understanding what those words meant, how the Law directed their lives, bound them to its will. Was it mercy killing the baby now? Dread spread throughout his body at his errant thought.

Finnick hid behind his mask of confidence, keeping it together in front of Peeta. But the devastating result shattered his yearnings for Peeta's son. He wanted to blame someone for this calamity. He sneered at Katniss and her sniveling. Why did he choose her? She had been a thorn on his side, causing havoc in his home and his relationship with Peeta. And now this…a female child grew inside her womb and biology didn't lie. Never mind the fact a man's seed was responsible for the sex of the child. He would charge her for this setback.

Taking a cleansing breath, Finnick thought of their options, but knowing Peeta; he wouldn't allow abortion as a viable option. Resigning himself to this, he pictured living with a pregnant Katniss for the next thirty plus weeks until the birth. What a waste, another child bound to interminable service to the Republic. A dull pain settled on the pit of his stomach. Finnick rubbed his side, but it wouldn't abate. It was his guilt physically manifesting, for Finnick was the only one responsible for their current predicament. He had wanted a son, Peeta's son, only he wasn't getting it. His desires had catalyzed a chain reaction set to obliterate what he loved most. The Law had been on his side then, yet now paved the road of most assured heartbreak.


	11. PART XI

**PART XI**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

_A child's voice kept calling him._

_The rustling of leaves._

_A breeze brushed his face._

_"Daddy! Daddy! Look the yellow flowers are everywhere! Can I keep one? Please, Daddy? Can I?"_

_A beautiful girl ran ahead of him, picking up as many flowers as her small hands could hold. Her dark chestnut hair was in a long braid, swinging back and forth. She was dressed in sky-blue plain dress that touched her knees. He wanted her to look back at him, so he could see her eyes… He had to see them._

_"Dahlia…my beautiful girl. Please come to Daddy."_

_The child turned back, running at full speed crashing into his legs, causing him to fall back. It only made her giggle, and she climbed on top of his chest like it was something she did everyday. Her eyes were steel-gray._

_"Yes, Daddy…"_

_"Where's Mommy?"_

_The girl turned somber, and averted her eyes. She dropped the flowers, as if they didn't matter anymore._

_"She's no more, Daddy. Don't let them take me… Please, Daddy. Stay here with me."_

_As he moved to embrace her, a loud sound, like a firecracker made him look around. He wasn't in the meadow full of dandelions anymore, and the child had disappeared. Blood puddles and moans of pain surrounded him. It had been a gunshot. A lifeless body was displayed in the Capitol Square for all to see, as a warning. It hadn't been done in so many years. He tried to get closer, but he couldn't get through the crowd. He tried to yell, but no sound came out. Finally, he was able to push forward, only to want to move back… Katniss was on display, spread-eagle. Her blood spilled from the shot to the head, right between the eyes. Eyes that stared back at him, at first with a white film covering them, but something inside lit up, like embers from within._

A shriek popped his ears, as he gasped for air. Peeta touched the bed, feeling it cold and empty. Finnick had left long ago. The news of the female child had practically put a wall between them, with no one knowing how to topple or climb over it. Each using their work as an escape. Finnick stayed away from the house as much as possible, while Peeta wasted away in the attic.

His second commissioned piece was still a crude sketch of Snow's newest Avox. He hadn't been back into the Presidential Palace, but Snow had informed him, he wanted the painting to be done with the Avox's blood. Peeta would be receiving blood vials to his home. It made him queasy, just thinking of using someone's blood for his art.

Peeta rubbed his face, in frustration. There was no way to forget Snow and his damn painting, Finnick's evasive posture, and that _dream_. From all those things, he really didn't want to forget Dahlia. The way she called him with such love. He wanted her in his arms, and never let her go. See her pick up flowers and giggle. Peeta knew the best way to preserve her was to draw his dream. But one image he could do without was of Katniss and her dead stare, coming alive like a phoenix from the ashes.

As he sat back against the headboard, Finnick entered the room already dressed and ready to leave. Peeta wasn't sure it was even daylight outside.

"I heard you scream. Are you okay? I need to be going… some old member of Snow's cabinet is really sick and apparently I'm now under consideration for his position. Try to work on Snow's painting. Finish it as soon as you can. Please, for me. It might help my chances, if you make a good impression with the President. I'll be gone all day."

Finnick leant over and kissed Peeta, but didn't linger. Peeta huffed irritated with their current situation, and not knowing how to bridge the gap that was growing with every word left unsaid, even more with his need to discuss the future of his daughter. Resigning himself to eating an early breakfast alone, Peeta went into their bathroom, looking forward to a soul cleansing scalding shower.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was official, Finnick Odair was now a Presidential delegate. His father would've been so proud of his accomplishment, and at his age. It was extremely rare for someone so young to rise the ranks and gain a seat with the President and his most trusted men. The other candidates sneered and murmured all around him. Cinna flaunted his best friend's promotion to anyone they came in contact with, only exacerbating the envious stares. Finnick was getting fed up with it.

Cinna rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll stop, but we have to celebrate! Let's go to Flavius' favorite hangout. You'll absolutely love it. It will certainly help with your case of blue balls-"

"CINNA! Shut the fuck up! And I don't have… that. Wait, is this place like a whorehouse? Then, I'll have to decline. You know about my vows-"

Cinna ignored him and kept walking.

"You and those vows will likely cause your lovely cock to fall off. I've heard it happens to the breathing fossils that refuse to die, like the man you're replacing. Don't they understand it's their time to die already? Sheeh… Flavi is here! Come on, stop pouting and growling. It gives you wrinkles and ruins your perfect complexion. You can drink all you want, and not partake on the pleasures of the flesh. Maybe seeing Flavi and I, the way we enjoy each other with others, you will see the error of your ways. Who knows, maybe as you stave off your own impulses, Peeta takes his out on that woman he impregnated. Ick! How revolting! When it's our turn to procreate, Flavius will have to be the one. There's no way I'll be touching that…"

Cinna shuddered dramatically, making Finnick snort in response.

"It's not so bad…from what I remember. But, I will concede I don't want to go home yet. So, I accept the invitation, you'll be paying for all my drinks, old friend."

Finnick smirked in Cinna's face, and went ahead to tell the good news to Flavius before Cinna could. Cinna frowned in displeasure, "Smug bastard, if I didn't love you so much I'd punch you in your handsome fucking face. Asshole, it was my news to tell."

Flavius winked at his lover, waiting for his payback. "So, we are going to District 13? Finn you need to let someone blow you, man. It's like an out-of-body experience, you won't regret it. Peeta won't mind. Fuck, I'm gonna come just thinking of the last time… Move your asses," Flavius hollered.

The place was a dump, covered in horrifying pastel wallpapers with flowers, and the blinking lights gave Finnick a pounding headache. It stank of sex, sweat, and more sex. Finnick wanted to get his money's worth in drinks, well as much as he could, from Cinna's generosity. Downing one shot in one gulp, the burning sensation helped him tolerate the suffocating atmosphere. Flavius had been true to his word, disappearing behind a curtain booth with some stud, with a loin cloth as his only piece of clothing. Cinna was bobbing his head to the screeching noise, that supposedly was music.

"Bring another round, sweet cheeks. And don't forget to kiss your paying customer," Cinna continued to flirt with the redheaded man, as Finn swallowed his third drink, or was it his fourth. He shrugged waving for redhead Tony to fill his glass again. A blonde beauty spotted that Finnick was without company, observing him down one shot after another. Cinna noticed and nudged Finnick, making him grunt back annoyed since it caused his drink to slosh all over his suit.

"Motherfucker, Cinnie, watch what you're doing. Good thing you're paying. Get Red Tony to refill this-"

The blonde youth straddled Finnick's waist, and pushed his tongue into his mouth. Finnick was stunned, not reacting at the stranger's onslaught. The man ground his pelvis against Finnick's lap, causing him to groan at the persistent contact. The blonde bit his lower lip and tugged, making Finnick hiss. His hand yanked on the blonde man's hair causing him to disengage and stand back.

"Fuck! You gotta be the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. My stage name is Cashmere, but you can call me Cato. Wanna continue this somewhere more private… Sir?"

Finnick pushed off his seat, dropping his glass in the process, leaving a mess behind. "Fuck off, Cashmere. I'm a matched citizen, go play with someone else's cock. Cinna, I'm leaving," Finnick left without waiting for his friend's reply or goodbye. He was incensed. Cinna was right, he was strung out. He needed to put aside his issues and make up with his Peeta. Wiping his mouth from the remnants of slobber, Finnick bumped into someone.

"S-sorry, sir. I-I…Shit."

"I would never have pictured I'd find you here, Odair. Not after having being matched to such a catch and declaring your undying love to him. Your vows and your commitment are an inspiration to all citizens… too bad most don't have the fortitude. I would venture a guess and say Cinna is to blame. He and his Flavius are common patrons of this establishment. Congratulations are in order. Your father would be so proud of you, Finn. I'm proud of you-"

Finnick pushed Heavensbee against the nearest wall, "Still licking your wounds, Plutarch. I would think that husband of yours had finally learned to differentiate your dick from your balls. Thanks, I'm proud of myself. Only I forgot I would be seeing you more often than I would like. Stay the hell away from me, and all will be well. Now, I have to return home. Good night, sir."

Dropping his hands, and taking a deep breath, Finnick moved back ready to leave this nest of rats.

"As happy I'm for your career, it saddens me that you won't get the son you wanted…this time. I'm sure she'll be a lovely girl, coveted by all to bear their future sons. It will be a great contribution for the Republic."

Finnick swiveled in place and stood with his fists clenched, "Don't bait me, Heavensbee. For I will retaliate, damn the fucking consequences. I'm not your boy, at your beck and call, waiting on my knees for your next command. You. Lost. Me. Leave me and mine alone. Forget I exist."

But Heavensbee wouldn't quit, "Does Peeta know he's not enough for you? Does he please you completely? Or do you yearn for another's touch? You looked mighty cozy with Cato on your lap, massaging each others's tonsils-"

Finnick simply reacted, letting his body do the talking. His fist connected with Heavensbee's jaw, but it wasn't enough. His next hit broke the man's nose. If he hadn't broken a knuckle, making hand hurt intensely, Finnick would've kept pounding his face in. Heavensbee, spat and used a handkerchief to stop the blood from staining his shirt. "I'll be seeing you in District 2, Odair. Looking forward to your diplomatic attributes in action," he spoke in a condescending manner, further enraging Finnick as he left the bleeding man in the dark hallway.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick kept cursing, as his hand had swollen up and he could barely move it. He searched the kitchen for an icepack he could use, but he was clueless where everything was. He was tempted to wake up Mags, but probably his racket would do it for him.

"What are you looking for?"

Peeta turned on the lights, blinding Finnick for a few seconds.

"Fuck, turn that off. My head is killing me, as my hand wants to fall off. I need ice and a painkiller."

Peeta rushed forward, inspecting his bruised knuckle, "What the fuck did you do? Punch a wall in your spare time. You didn't get the delegate position? Finn… It will be all right." Finnick brushed Peeta's hair from his forehead with his uninjured hand, gaining his attention. "I got it, Peeta. Cinnie wanted to celebrate and I got into a fight, that's all. I'm home now, and you make it all better. You make me all better, I promise."

Finnick kissed tentatively at first, waiting for Peeta's response. Peeta kissed him back, cradling his head deepening it. Finnick was the first to back up, leaning his head on Peeta's forehead, allowing their eyes to meet.

"I have to go to District 2. There's an important meeting, all delegates must attend. Some discontent in that district needs to be appeased. I don't have a timeline, but you'll have to take care of our home, until my return. Mags takes care of everything, so you don't need to worry much. Hopefully, by the time I return you have finished that dreadful painting that has you so unhinged. As for the other… _issue_ , we'll discuss it when I return. Right now I need to crash, for tomorrow will be a very long day."

Peeta helped him get into bed, after cleaning him up as best he could. He sat in bed, beside a snoring Finnick, thinking of one thing. Katniss would be under his care. He would be alone with her, and this time he would not fuck it up. The _issue_ , as Finnick called it, he will find a way to protect his child and her mother. How was the real conundrum he had to solve.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss sat at the windowsill, letting the wind brush her face and wash her tears away. These days, they fell almost nonstop. Even Mags had no consoling words to sooth Katniss. It was hopeless. She would give birth to a daughter, a worthless female, only valued for her potential breeding womb. A girl who would be taken from her body, never to be seen again. At this moment, she didn't care what became of herself. Returning to the Hob was fair punishment for failing in her only objective, to birth a son.

The first rays of sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, casting their light inside her cell. Nothing mattered anymore, only the life inside her. How quickly she grew to love her, knowing she was rapidly growing. Katniss missed her Father more than ever, for he would now what to do. He had been a survivor, who'd even taken a life to save his own. Could she do the same for her unborn child? Katniss knew that she was capable of that and more. This brought her to think on her plan, one she tried to brush off, but always came back to. She'd come to the conclusion it was her only chance to save her baby girl.

Make Peeta Mellark fall in love with her.


	12. PART XII

**PART XII**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick had left for a undeterminable amount of time. Peeta decided to stop delaying and finally complete Snow's painting. The jars containing the fresh blood had arrived by special messenger directly from the Presidential Palace. He tried not to think on how it had been obtained, but still he shuddered in revulsion at the sight of them.

Peeta stared at the immense canvas, lost in how to proceed. He opened one of the containers, and immediately a metallic stench emanated from it. In his rush to close it, Peeta almost spilled the blood. He would need to cover his nose, if he wanted to survive this, for it was a guarantee he would get sick. Nose covered and using an old brush, he began with swift strokes, which at first sight looked like droplets of red paint. Peeta kept going, slowly revealing a tortured man he had seen in the rose garden. The eyes he left blank and the face devoid of emotion. As he stood back, Peeta could say it was a testimony to the man's endurance and rebellious spirit.

Would Snow see what Peeta had done? It was a risk, that may cost him his life, but Peeta wasn't capable of anything else. This painting would immortalize a condemned man, at the same time, it would serve as tribute to his undeniable strength.

By the time Peeta deemed it finished, it was late afternoon. His stomach was growling and he needed to stop, return tomorrow with a fresh mind. Knowing he had to get rid of the blood, Peeta turned the faucet and turned over the containers, watching what was left of the congealed blood wash down the drain. If only it he could so easily forget what he had witness and in turn made him an accomplice.

Next, he wanted to dedicate his time to draw and paint his dream, give life to his daughter, Dahlia. He wanted to fill this attic with depictions of her. Looking through drawers and materials, he needed to replenish his stash and get new brushes and canvases.

When Finnick returned, Peeta would show him and make him _see_. He was sure he would be able to persuade Finn to protect and keep his daughter. He could almost hear her giggles and her voice calling him "daddy". Yet there was a second part to his dreams, one that merited his attention as well, a prompt solution. His Dahlia needed her mother.

Washing his hands and covering the painting, Peeta left to find some sustenance. In the kitchen, he found Mags's soothing voice, "Feeling better, dear? I remember and don't envy you that morning sickness, that's really all-day-long sickness. But what do men know? They know nothing of women, much less babies. I was blessed to see mine grow up…" Peeta hated to intrude, but his body was at its limit. He made some noise, alerting of his impending presence.

"Hello, Mags. What's for dinner? I'm starving."

He gave her his accustomed smirk, which caused her to laugh and beckon him forward.

"Give this old woman a hug, young man. I've missed you… I don't like it when you get lost inside that head of yours, and those damn commissions. You didn't leave a mess for me to clean up after you, right? You're too old for that, and I'm too decrepit to keep up with you."

Peeta shook his head and smiled, as Mags reprimanded him in jest. For some reason, she had taken to him, loved him immediately and treated him as if he had always been part of the family. He hugged her harder than usual, causing her to push him away.

"Stop that, you scoundrel! I can hear your insides talking. I'm making some stew for Katniss, but for you there's some steak I bought fresh from the market-"

At the mention of steak, Katniss' stomach reacted violently, causing her to run from the room. Peeta was about to go after her, but Mags stopped him. She touched his face, getting his attention, "Don't you worry. She will be fine in a couple of weeks, hopefully. It's the hormones and your girl growing inside her. Any distinct smell can set the nausea off, and there's no stopping it. Now, let's feed you."

Katniss didn't return to the kitchen. She was lying down in her bed, with the window opened letting the wind calm her. She hated feeling so weak. It made more impotent. And she had lost an opportunity to be around Peeta.

Mags had come by, and practically force-fed her the lamb stew. How she knew it was her favorite, Katniss didn't know. Tears fell down the corner of her eyes, as she remembered how difficult it was to find lamb meat, but her father would not stop until he came home with it. He wanted his girl to eat her favorite meal, even at the cost of his own life. Stop it, Katniss, she berated herself. She needed to keep her mind-set on the plan, thoughts clear of the past.

"Prim… I really need you. Please, tell me everything will be okay. Tell me I will save this baby, take her from this place… even if I don't see her again, I want her to be safe. That she'll have a real life."

She must have dozed off, when a knock on her door startled from her slumber. It wasn't Mags, for she would have simply opened the door to check on her.

That left only one other person.

Peeta.

"I-I'm sorry if I disturbed you… I wanted to see if you were feeling better. Do I need to call the doctor-"

"No! Please, don't call for the doctor… It will pass. I'm feeling much better already. If I don't smell certain things…Thank you…Peeta."

Katniss tried to smile, but it looked like a grimace. She couldn't fail in her efforts to keep him with her. Peeta looked her over, seeing she was wearing a navy colored shift. Her face was still pale, but her eyes reflected a sadness she couldn't hide. For a few seconds, they both remained silent, standing only a foot apart. Peeta decided to bite the bullet, "I know how much you enjoyed the garden, and since I'm finished with my last piece… I was thinking if you'd like to aid me in restoring it, the garden I mean… But if you don't want to that's fine, I mean if you feel too sick-"

Katniss touched his forearm, stopping Peeta's nervous rambling.

"I would love to help… I don't have anything to do with my time, only wait. A girl can go mad, stuck inside with her thoughts as her only companions. But I have to draw my limit at the heavy lifting, deal?"

Even though her touch lasted but a second, it was enough to scorch his skin. He was so entranced, Peeta missed most of what Katniss said, only hearing her last words and seeing her hand waiting for his shake.

"Deal."

Their hands touched, his fingers gripped her proffered hand, and Peeta felt tempted to pull her against his chest and kiss her lips. But Katniss dropped his hands, as if she had listened to his thoughts.

"When do we start?"

She had said "we". He had to use this opportunity to mend his precarious relationship with her, and let her in on his plan to save Dahlia. He wondered if she would approve of the name. It was the name of a flower, just like her sister's and her own. It was fitting to follow her family's tradition.

"Tomorrow? I will have to buy some supplies, but I think we can start by cleaning up the debris. What time?"

At present, Katniss had no problem smiling, "I'll see you at nine, after breakfast. Good night, Peeta."

Peeta was elated and grinned back, "Good night, Katniss."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

With each touch, every meaningful glance, Peeta established a hesitant friendship with Katniss. Every morning for a week, they would meet in the indoor garden, working together. Old Mags stayed away, only interrupting to announce when lunch was ready. Sometimes, they would stay out until dinner. The new flowers had been selected by Katniss, a variety of wild flowers, the ones she had grown up with in the meadow. Peeta asked her to describe this place, and to his astonishment, it was too close to his dream.

"Peeta… you seem a little pale. Maybe we should stop for today. I mean, I feel a bit dizzy myself, so I wouldn't mind lying down for a while…"

"So, this meadow…it had dandelions?"

"Yes, my sister loved to pick them up. When there was nothing to eat, we ate them. Not the most tasteful meal, but it would do… Peeta? What's wrong with you?"

Peeta stood, from the new wire chairs he had bought, walking and yanking on his hair. Katniss noticed his flushed face and hear his labored breathing. As she was about to approach him, Peeta took a step away from her.

"I need to be alone. I need to think… Tell Mags I'll be in the attic and to not disturb me."

Peeta hated himself even more. Running away like a coward, instead of facing her and telling her about his dream. What did it mean? Was it a premonition of their future? It surely meant his descent into madness.

And that fucking painting still hung on his easel, taunting him with another's life in the balance. Was the Avox still alive? Or had Snow gotten impatient and killed him for sport? Snow hadn't contact him again, but he expected Peeta to deliver the piece personally. Peeta rubbed his face, and raked his fingers through his disheveled hair.

His saving grace were the paintings he had done of his Dahlia. He'd painted her frolicking through the meadow, dandelions at her feet. He had done closeups of her face, her hair and her eyes. She was so real in his mind, there was no way he would surrender her to a life in a place like the Hob or join the labor camps in the other districts. Dahlia belonged with him… with them. He had to make Finnick see _her_ , know she was real and that she was his daughter too.

They had to protect her from the Law and from Snow, no matter the cost. The life they had led until now was pointless. It held no meaning for him, and he would gladly give it all up for a life in which Dahlia stayed with him. Katniss was part of his daughter's life, and Peeta will fight to make it so. They could live together, the way her family did for so many years. This time no one would find them. In several years, Peeta would get to see his Dahlia running freely and picking up dandelions, as he did in his dreams.

The last time he dreamt of his daughter, Peeta had made a promise. His Dahlia would keep her mother, somehow he would prevent the execution he kept seeing over and over. Katniss would live and be a part of her daughter's life, experience her growing up, a healthy beautiful child.

Time slipped from Peeta, only the presence of someone inside the room woke him from his stupor. On his lap, was a drawing of Finnick, Peeta and Katniss watching Dahlia twirl in the sun. He hadn't finished coloring it with the special pencils he'd bought recently. He pushed the notepad from his lap letting it fall on the sofa. The light was off, so he couldn't decipher who had invaded his sacred space.

"Mags? I told you to leave me alone… Besides, I'm up and I'll be going to my bed-"

"What are these, Peeta? Who is she? Why am I in some of these paintings?"

It wasn't Mags.

Katniss had entered unannounced and was looking through his private thoughts sprawled on every available surface. The only light was coming from an outside source, only letting shadows of his work visible. He stood and turned on a lamp in the corner. He cracked his back, trying to fix the kinks in his back and neck.

She had found his most recent drawing, the one he had left on the sofa. Her eyes followed every line with intensity, then her stare met his, glaring at him.

"Is this the reason why you asked about the meadow? So you could use it for this… whatever the hell this is? Explain!"

Peeta walked towards the window, staring at the night sky. Taking deep breaths, he prepared himself to tell her the only truth he knew.

"Ever since I found out about… I've been having these dreams. Dreams of another place, one I've never been to. A meadow full of wild flowers, but mostly dandelions. I'm not alone in this place. A girl, not older than five, calls to me. She calls me her d-daddy. Her eyes, they are so much like yours. Her hair is a chestnut color with waves. She has the most beautiful laugh. Her name is Dahlia. And I love her…"

Katniss dropped the notepad, and paced until her hands clashed against his chest. Her eyes were already welling with tears, unable to hold them back, "S-stop it! STOP! You lie! You can't say such things… She's mine. She's my daughter. Neither you or your Finnick want her. You'll send her away once she's out of my body. You'll condemn her to a life of misery, just like every other female born in the Republic. We mean nothing but vessels to produce your perfect sons. But if they are female, they are bound to a lifetime of unjust servitude. How many live till old age? Mags is just anomaly, a woman who was fortunate enough to land herself into the hands of the Odairs. Connections and greed, lust and power, that's what runs this cursed country. And you… you simply wait in the shadows. You do nothing!"

Peeta felt the tears fall, as his hands held Katniss. She was now sobbing, having lost her strength. She was right. He was an accomplice and a coward. All men had bowed down long ago to the Law without question.

What was Snow hiding in those forbidden paintings, in his supposedly moral standard? Peeta tried to forget that scene, the one that turned his stomach. Snow had said women were at fault. Why? Weren't the men, the ones raping the defenseless woman, the real culprits? What were the justifications for alienating women from public life? His head was pounding and he knew there was no way he would be able to fall sleep tonight.

"Come with me, let's go to my room. You'll be comfortable there. If you'd like, I can draw you a bath and you may sleep there… I'll stay here-"

"Don't… I can't, please. Let's just stay here. Tell me about… Dahlia. Such a pretty name. I like it."

"There's not much room here… I don't want you to be uncomfortable. This sofa isn't the most accommodating. I can attest from experience."

Both laughed, sitting side by side, Katniss getting closer, until her head rested on his shoulder. Peeta talked about how Dahlia smiled, how her eyes brightened when she saw him run after her, and her happy giggles. Katniss felt jealous of Peeta's dreams, even if it was just made up in his head. She couldn't really make herself believe they were real. The child growing inside her was doomed, only she would be able to save her even if it ended with her own death. She had to stick to the plan.

Peeta had stopped his monologue, now staring at his latest drawing. It was the first one featuring Finnick. He was sitting beside him, giving his famous devilish smirk. He missed him. They were partners, and as such their future was intertwined. Peeta could only hope Finnick thought like this as well, even against adversity.

The brush of lips on his neck stunned him, resulting in his whole body to shiver. He moved back, meeting Katniss hooded eyes. He wasn't sure if it was desire staring back at him. He wanted her, that hadn't abated. But he didn't want to use his advantageous position and simply demand her compliance. He wasn't seeking a child any longer. If they joined now, it would be for mutual pleasure. Peeta yearned for Katniss' surrender, to connect with her, to feel her melding with him, in joined release.

Katniss controlled her breathing and maintained eye contact with her Master. Yes, he was still her Master, her enemy, but one that would serve in her plan to save her daughter. His blue eyes, with an internal source of light, unnerved her. Could he see right through her? She hesitated, averted her eyes, and ended up staring at his throat.

She felt confusion and self-disgust. It would be too easy to slip, to let herself feel… feel for him. For the first time, Katniss empathized with Mags. Living in captivity had clearly fucked-up her mind. Her lips touched his skin once again, her nose inhaling his manly scent, musk and sweat. Her tongue slipped out and licked his Adam's apple, making Peeta grunt in response.

"W-what are you doing to me?"

She didn't know what she was doing. She was completely inexperienced, clueless as how to go ahead. Katniss had always believed her future was set, and she would marry Gale. Her fate was changed in a second, and the rest of her life ruined. But Katniss was certain of one thing, Peeta Mellark wasn't a monster. He was victim of his circumstances, stuck in a society which perpetuated and indoctrinated, generation after generation against women. She knew the other alternative. She'd been granted a childhood with both her parents, a chance at a life in freedom for so many years. As her hand caressed his face, Katniss felt pity for her Master. Instead, it was Peeta the one surrendering to her.

Lips clashed in the darkness of the attic, with only the crescent moon as witness.

Phase one.

Check.


	13. PART XIII

**PART XIII**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick was bored out of his mind. The sessions went on forever in District 2, with the snobs and kiss-ass looking for a vote in their favor. Illicit dealings under the table or sexual favors of any kind had been offered for his influence, but he would simply keep walking. It bothered him that this type of thing happened to his father. Power came with a price, and the constant annoyance of self-serving individuals.

Flicking the ashes from his cigarette, he gazed at the view from his private quarters. A mountain and small villages were surrounding it. Finnick didn't understand what was the appeal to live in such a place. In the Capitol, there were more options, like culture and excitement, a real city life. Here, it was…there was only that mountain. But of course that mountain was source of great resources for the Republic.

He had never been beyond this District, and seeing this made him think it could only get worse. He had been blessed by inheriting his father's estate and privileges. Though his position in the Capitol's social ladder had been attained by his own efforts.

Being cast aside, disowned, would've been a real catastrophe. Instead, Finnick and Peeta would be working the fields, or inside a filth-ridden mine. Not everyone got to have acres of land, to build their own farm and have people work them. It would be impossible to get your breeding vessel and have descendants, much less have something to leave behind as inheritance. He was so lucky. Finnick had everything he ever could have want. Being partnered with the man of his dreams and getting a promotion that would assure his place in the Republic.

The first setback had been finding out their future child was a female…Peeta's daughter. He cringed thinking about what the doctor had implied needed to be done. He couldn't deny he'd been tempted to accept the doctor's offer. But knowing Peeta's tender heart, he never would condone it.

The second setback, Peeta would not simply give this child up. How did he face this next challenge? How to make Peeta understand it was impossible to keep her? This child, once it was born, would be property of the Republic of Panem. There was no escape clause in the Law. Every female child born from a vessel is property of Panem, use to be determined for the betterment of its people.

The third setback, was Katniss, a real pain in the ass. Finnick accepted choosing her had been a grave mistake. He had to choose the one with the steel-colored eyes with the defiant glare. Also the one being Peeta had immediately connected with, once his eyes locked on her, hers looked back as if she could feel it even through the one-way mirror. Damn her to the mining pits, Finnick cursed. Once that child was born and taken away, he had to get rid of its mother.

And here he was, giving her the opportunity to pounce on his sweet and gullible Peeta. She wasn't stupid, far from it. Katniss would manipulate her current condition to secure her position; she will pretend to be desolate and worried, with pains and sickness, while his Peeta will fall for her deception, to cater to her every need.

Finnick threw the empty glass against the wall. The crystal broke, but he still felt no relief. He needed to numb his mind, and maybe his heart.

So much for being lucky.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss woke in a strange place. It surely wasn't her room. A straight beam of light was hitting her right in the forehead. But that wasn't the only thing that was different. She was resting on top of someone, who hadn't woken up yet. Opening her eyes slowly, and using her hands to lift herself, Katniss found half-lidded blue eyes staring back at her. She blushed involuntarily, while Peeta smiled broadly back. His hands held her closer, trying to keep her in place. She wanted to bolt, to get to her room, where she felt safer. His fingers brushed her lips, while his eyes stared intensely into hers. No words were spoken.

What had she done? Spent the night in the attic, with a man that owned her. Kissing said man until exhaustion. She closed her eyes in disgust. It was too much, and yet it was all according to her plan. Get it together Katniss, she thought. This was the only way to secure her daughter's future.

Dahlia.

He'd already picked her name, a flower's name, following her family's tradition, and she had to admit it warmed her heart.

"Don't…Do you regret last night? Please say something… I-I better go…"

Peeta felt wretched, seeing Katniss' inner conflict displayed on her face. He should have let her go last night. But then it hadn't been all him. She had instigated his actions. She wanted it as much as he had.

Yet, the guilt was there, simmering in his stomach. He was a bastard. What was his word worth now? Nothing. How could he look into Finnick's eyes again and proclaim he loved him above anyone else? Peeta had failed Finnick in their the most sacred of vow to each other. Their matching vows had been different. In the Capitol, it was extremely uncommon for a matched couple to swear fidelity. It was all about companionship and living a life together until their passing, to create a home in which their offspring would grow and prosper.

Katniss stood up from the sofa and walked towards the window, towards the light. She could hear the birds' song. It was her turn to imagine her little Dahlia running in the garden… and her father after her. It was here, in that garden that she had felt close to being free in this captivity. Unwelcome tears slipped from her eyes, Katniss cleared them quickly. She had to be strong. She was a survivor, and her daughter would be a survivor, like her grandfather, who'd overcome the Republic's unscrupulous reign.

Peeta let his head rest on his hands, as he sat forward. It was just one night…he hadn't fucked her. He'd only held her in his arms…exchanged kisses. It was nothing really. He was overreacting. Taking deep breaths, Peeta decided to face the day and try to forget his momentary slip.

"Are you hungry? I'm sure Mags must be in the kitchen at his very second. If not she will be looking for you-"

"I don't regret it. Not one single second. I'm sorry…if I have done something to the contrary… I'll see you later, Peeta."

She swiftly left the room, without a second glance his way. He wanted to believe she wasn't regretting their night together. It was wrong for him to want her, but it was an offense against the Law. She knew the Law and its corresponding punishments. Her purpose as vessel had been fulfilled; she was with child. There was no need for further contact between Master and vessel. Every touch and kiss that had taken place in that room was strictly forbidden. One witness denouncing them would end their lives.

Just one witness.

"Fuck… What were you thinking? You love Finnick. He is your life. You need to find a way to save your daughter. As for Katniss… fuck-"

A knock stopped his inane ranting. It was Mags. She opened the door, her eyes looking around.

"Dear boy… did you sleep in here? What the goat's balls is wrong with you? Get up! Talking to yourself… Pfft. Wait until Finnick comes back, I'll tell him he can't leave you alone for more than a week or you'll be a wreck without him. He better take you with him next time. Go take a shower! You stink! I won't give you any food until you look presentable… and smell like a well raised boy. I'll be sweeping the floor and don't want any protesting from you. This place is a pigsty-"

Peeta touched Mags cheek, looking directly into her aquamarine eyes, "Don't throw away any of my drawings, just set them on top of my desk. I'm gonna get ready and you'll give me that breakfast you've made with so much love. I'll be taking that painting to its owner today, so no peeking, Mags. I mean it. It's for his eyes only, and mine, unfortunately. Love you." He kissed her forehead, seeing her grin back, only showing a few of her remaining teeth.

Mags stared at the sofa, as if it were speaking to her, telling her its secrets. She knew Katniss had been here, slept in this very room. The only conclusion was she had slept with Peeta in that very spot. Her Finnick must never know. She rubbed her chest, trying to keep the ache at bay. She would do anything for this to never harm her boy. But she wasn't sure if the guilt she saw in Peeta would be enough to halt this situation. How she wished for Finn's return.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta's calls to Snow went unanswered. Every excuse given implied he was too busy to answer an insignificant call. The assistant's voice got more grating each time. By the fourth time, Peeta gave up. It seemed his plans for the day were cancelled. He had no interest in showing up unannounced at the Presidential Palace. It irked him knowing that the painting would have to stay another day in his possession.

For now he had no commissioned work, so he could dedicate his time to painting and drawing Dahlia. He had dreamt of her again last night. It had been in the meadow, and she had picked flowers while he stayed back watching her. This time she had asked him where was her mommy and as he tried to answer, the dream changed, and they were no longer alone. Katniss was there calling Dahlia to her, but Peeta couldn't get closer. They were being snatched from his reach. He awoke to find that Katniss hadn't gone anywhere; she had stayed. It allowed him to fall back to sleep.

It was noon, and he hadn't seen Katniss again. He was curious to peek into the garden, hoping to catch her in her restored sanctuary. But knowing Mags was around, stopped him. After last night, distance between them was a necessity. Finally, Peeta decided to visit his attic and draw his latest dream.

Meanwhile, Katniss was thinking of Peeta. She was afraid she had been too forward, and now had scared him away. She had nothing left to lose but her daughter, while Peeta had a life and a husband he loved.

She had no idea how much time she had left. Once Finnick returned, she would be confined to her room. Her plan had to be implemented now, when they were alone. She thought of going up to the attic again and wait for him there. Mags said she had to clean, maybe Katniss could help her with that. It was cruel to make the old woman go all the way up. Her mind made up, Katniss went to the garden. It was once again a peaceful place. Maybe it would be better to spend some time here, and talk with Prim. Later, she would visit the attic.

Going up the steps, Katniss used the handrail. She felt so tired, even though she had mostly slept last night. Right at the top, the door was ajar, and she could hear the scratching of a pencil. Peeta was inside. She hesitated, not knowing if she should knock or simply announce her presence. The creaking of the floorboards did it for her. Peeta stopped what he was doing, and came to the door.

"Yes? Oh… Katniss. Do you need something? I-I mean, come in."

Her appearance in his personal space flustered him. Katniss walked inside and looked around briefly noticing the covered pairing was still in the room. Scattered on top of the desk and sofa, she saw several drawings in various stages of development. Most appeared to be of a little girl, the one Peeta believed was their daughter. It reassured Katniss' plan to use Peeta's paternal feelings to secure her daughter's future.

"Did you have lunch? I'm sure Mags will re-heat it for you. Today, I only had some soup. My stomach wouldn't allow me to eat anything stronger. Are these…Dahlia?"

Her conversational skills were poor at best, Prim had complained about it. She was monosyllabic most of the time. She decided to pick the one topic that united them, the Dahlia's drawings. Peeta blinked for a few seconds without saying a word, then like some bolt fell into place, bringing him back to life. He replied, "I'm not that hungry, but I'm sure she'll be badgering me to eat something later. She was here earlier trying to clean up, but I stopped her for injuring herself. This room is my responsibility, but can make her understand that. Stubborn that she is…Are you still feeling ill? Should I call the doctor? Maybe it would be best-"

"I'm fine. Mags told me it's normal."

Katniss noticed the closest drawing. Her fingers traced the creases on the paper. He had used such force dragging the pencil, giving life to Dahlia. Her other hand touched her visible bump. She wondered if her baby would truly look like this, Peeta's Dahlia. Peeta's gasp startled Katniss, making her gaze into his eyes.

"I can't wait to meet her… I saw her in my dreams again last night. Your eyes stared back at me, she'll have your gray eyes."

Katniss felt her throat was closing up. She held welling tears, brushing her eyes away and coughing as she tried to breathe. She had to talk about something else, or she'll breakdown in front of him.

"H-how did you know you were going to be a renowned artist?"

Peeta could see through Katniss' deflection from her emotional state and decided to play along.

"My father was a baker. Deep down I knew he wanted me to learn the same trade and follow his legacy. His partner had a better position and discovered my innate artistic talent early on. I was his favorite of the Mellark's sons. Never conceiving children of his own, we were his children, too. Yet, he insisted we call him Uncle Jackson. He was the one who financed my schooling. That's how I had the best teachers. He was so proud of me. I think my father was too, but none of his children followed his footsteps. My brothers inherited land in different districts from Uncle Jackson. He died when I was only thirteen. He left me a trust fund that continued to pay for my education and expenses. With this financial security I could make my life in the Capitol, for my art to flourish. Later on, I was matched to Finn… I haven't seen my brothers in years. Only one of them stayed here, but he doesn't look for me, and I don't look for him."

"My father didn't look for another partner. Once Jackson died, a great part of him died with him. It was only a matter of time for death to take him, too. People said my father died of a broken heart, not seeing future generations of Mellarks. My brothers have made sure of the next Mellark generation. Farm owners are known to take more than one vessel at a time, to assure multiple descendants. It's not a common practice here in the Capitol, even if the Law doesn't prohibit it. Not everyone can pay the fees and taxes, though. Out there in the other districts things are done differently. Therefore, I can't claim to be the first father in the Mellark line…maybe the first daughter."

Sitting side by side, Katniss searched for Peeta's hand and squeezed it. Their eyes met, and both knew things were once more moving into dangerous territory. She was the first to bridge the gap and her lips brushed his. Peeta closed his eyes, ending their connection. He had to stop this, but how to find the strength to do so.

"It will be different for her…She will have her father. I promise you, Katniss. Dahlia will have _us_."

He could clearly picture Dahlia in his head, her smile and her eyes. She was his blood, made of his flesh. He never had felt a bond stronger.

 _"Forgive me_ , Finnick," Peeta muttered.

His words tipped the scale in Katniss' favor, in her quest to save her child. She kissed him, softly at first, but finding herself pulled into his lap. His hands were touching her, as her tongue found his open mouth, as he searched for air. It was happening, but in her own terms.

She was in control.

Sitting astride, her hands pulled his head back by the hair on his nape. Peeta grunted back, as Katniss stared. This was the moment, he had to decide if he was going to fall. She was ready, and he was going to be hers. Grinding her hips against his lap, Peeta whimpered. His arousal was more than obvious between his legs. She was torturing him and demanding his complete surrender. How fitting than in the past, Katniss was the offering to be plundered. Now, she was demanding payment. Their eyes didn't stray from each other, as their bodies moved on their own.

Her hands pushed his shirt up and off his chest, blinding him for a moment. She dropped it on the floor, her fingers all over the contours of his bare chest. She brushed over his chest hair, almost entranced by it, while her pelvis kept swiveling on top of him. He wanted more friction, needed it. His hands moved from her back, grabbing her hips to direct her movements. It enraged her, causing her to push him back and imprison his hands within her grasp. She shook her head.

"No. I move. I touch. You stay."

Standing on her knees, Katniss proceeded to peel her shift off her body, exposing it to Peeta's eyes. Katniss saw his desire and took hold of his hair pushing his face closer. His eyes asked for permission, waiting for her command.

"Do it…kiss me."

Without thinking it twice, his lips encircled one breast, both moaning in unison. This was so different from any of their previous encounters. No one was watching. He wasn't in control of what happened next. His hands were freed from the hold of her hands, as she unfastened his pants. She was out of breath, her breasts heaving, her skin flushed and glistening. Her release was getting closer, and Peeta wanted to see it. Her nails bit into his flesh, a silent command to continue his previous attention, but he was waiting for the right moment. She was getting restless and her thrusting faster. At last, their eyes met, Peeta took her back inside his mouth and sucked. The sensation was so intense, a wave from within expanded like a silent explosion. Well, not that silent, as her mouth opened and her moans escaped. She nuzzled his neck, using his skin to quiet her uncontrollable pleasure.

As she tried to calm down and normalize her breathing, Peeta's lips skimmed her earlobe, "Nothing I've ever seen has been so beautiful. Only that child that grows within you will surpass this moment. Let me see it again, one more time…"

It was then, Katniss noticed she hadn't finished undressing him. She had been impatient and pursued her own pleasure. It hadn't been about him. But she had the opportunity to she had to ensnare him.

Make Peeta fall in love with her, that was her goal.

It was different rhythm this time. Peeta had experienced need before, but this was so unique. This body smell and tasted unlike Finnick's. This body housed his daughter; it nourished and kept her safe.

He wasn't going to last long. His hands held her hips pushing down as she bucked, without protest from Katniss. His eyes watched as she once again strived for release. In some way, having her in this way made her his, even if she was controlling him. Her body was his, with her womb full of his child.

Her panting breath fell on his face, as he touched her neck and breast. Their moans and grunts were tempered, muzzled against a shoulder or a neck. Their release was near, but yet so far. It was like neither of them wanted it to end. Just this once, it would be only them. It was unspoken between them, but clear in the air they breathed.

Peeta fell back on the sofa, tucking Katniss at his side. Both were already half-asleep, and evading any discussion of their actions. It was done. They would have to face the consequences together. With eyes closed and Peeta's hands embracing her, Katniss reveled at how well she had executed her plan. Her mind and body had joined, allowing her to be the conqueror and not the conquered.

Before losing consciousness, she murmured to her child, "Don't worry little one, Momma will keep you safe."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

A while later, Katniss roused before Peeta. She could hear his snore, more like a rumbling tummy. Maybe he was hungry, she surmised. Searching for her shift, Katniss untangled herself from his grasp, and got up. She felt sore between her legs, but not like the first few times she'd been taken by Peeta. The room was dark and smelt of sex. She hoped Mags had stayed preoccupied elsewhere.

Dressed with nothing to do, Katniss went to the desk browsing over the drawing sprawled on the surface. There were more drawings of Dahlia, of her, and even of Finnick. Seeing him even in black and white was disconcerting.

How long before Peeta's other half came home?

She had to endure and push forward, all for the sake of her around, the only thing standing in her way was the painting. It was President Snow's commissioned painting. It was covered with a tarp. It was beckoning to be uncovered. There wasn't adequate lighting, so Katniss switch on a small lamp on the desk. She heard a squeak from Peeta's direction, but thankfully he'd simply changed his sleeping position.

Standing in front of the painting, Katniss scrunched her nose at the foul odor emanating from it. With a quick yank, the cover dropped to the floor revealing… the most macabre scene. Swirls of reds and browns came together showing a tortured face.

Katniss recognized it.

She couldn't draw breath. She was dying. He was dying. Red and brown stared back at her. She was drowning in it. Her hand was about to touch it, when a hitched breath stopped her. Peeta was awake, and so was she. It wasn't a nightmare.

It was real.

She wanted to destroy it, to obliterate any trace of it.

"No…no. It can't be. Oh, please…please. GALE! GALE! GALE!"


	14. PART XIV

**PART XIV**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was too much for her fragile body to handle. Katniss fell to her knees, her eyes still locked on the painting. It was him, even without color. It was Gale. Seeing his face again was something she hoped. Now, Katniss knew she would never see him alive. Gale Hawthorne was a dead man walking, bidding his time until his very last breath. His life was not his own anymore. He was a slave, an object, a property belonging to President Snow.

Her body started to convulse involuntarily. She was barely taking air in, as she let herself fall.

Katniss Everdeen was finally giving up.

Peeta tried to rile her up, but without success. Her eyes stayed closed and her body was dead weight in his arms. Only her slow heartbeat and slight inhalations let him know she was still alive. His eyes stared up at the dreadful painting. It was even more gruesome now. It was like the blood was dripping off, rivulets of blood ready to swallow him whole. This man, the one he had seen kneeling before him, Katniss knew him.

She had seen what was forbidden.

"Please forget… you need to forget, Kat. MAGS! MAGS! I need your help!"

Peeta tried to stand with Katniss in his arms, but he could barely lift her. Loud steps alerted him of Mags coming to his aid, in this horrifying scene. He found strength to lay Katniss on the sofa, as he covered the painting from view, just as Mags barged into the room.

"What's wrong Peeta? Oh my! What's happened to Katniss? What have you done, boy?"

The old woman touched her forehead, finding it sweaty and hot. She tried to open her eyes, and checked her heartbeat. Old Mags was no fool. She knew what had happened inside that attic, the smell and state of disarray giving it away. She closed her eyes willing to keep her mouth shut. It was good her dear Finn wasn't home yet, for this would kill him. Betrayed by the one he loved most. As she assessed Katniss' state, Peeta paced and yanked on his hair.

"You better stop that, or you'll be bald by nightfall. She's just in shock. Her body is protecting itself. We have to get her into her bed. I'll keep watch over her. You get rid of that thing… today. She saw it, whatever it is…Not a word of this day will pass through our lips. Do you understand, Mellark?"

Peeta looked into sea-green eyes and nodded. It was a rare occasion, when said woman would refer to him by his family's name. He was her Peeta since the very moment he stepped inside this house. He cringed and gazed upon Katniss' motionless body. Something had been broken here and it wasn't only Katniss. Mags would never trust him again. He couldn't do anything to change it now. He had unfinished business to attend.

Before he left to get ready, Peeta leant down to kiss her forehead, knowing Mags was watching. His lips brushed her ear, murmured, "You are the strongest person I know… you will survive this and more. Forget, my Kat. I need you to forget. And… find forgiveness for what has been done… I will come back to you. Take care of our Dahlia."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The Palace was deserted. No Avox to guide him or petulant assistant eyeing him from head to toe. He had been let inside by a simple servant, in red colored clothes emblazoned, with the Capitol's seal in gold. The opulent room had a lingering scent of tobacco and sex. Peeta refrained from sitting in any of the chairs. The walls in this chamber were covered in a bucolic scenery, of shepherds and fields, so different from the paintings he had seen in the ballroom.

A particular painting caught his attention. It was one of a forest, a small cabin, and a lake. For some reason it seemed familiar to him, but Peeta knew he had never seen it. He got closer, looking at every detail. There was a meadow with dandelions in the background. It was so like his…a cough alerted him that he was no longer alone.

"Mr. Mellark? I'm Haymitch Abernathy, the President's private tutor for his sons. Last time you visited we didn't properly meet. I see you are looking at District 12. Wonderful place, don't you think?"

"District 12? Have you been there, sir?"

Peeta turned, locking his gaze upon the interloper. It was the man he had seen that day, the one that had let loose the little brat. It appeared he was more lucid today, not smelling of liquor and not a hair out-of-place. Abernathy stared back, not intimidated by Peeta.

Was this easily rattled boy the hope for the future? He scoffed, and moved in the direction of the decanter. He was too sober for this shit, Haymitch thought.

"Want one, Mellark? I think you're going to need more of this in the coming days… How's your…what's his name Filch… no Finnick, Finnick Odair? I heard he's moving up into a bright future. You must be sooo proud-"

Peeta sneered, "State your business Abernathy. Enough with the sarcasm."

Haymitch answered him with a sardonic laugh, "You need to grow some balls, boy. Or you'll be eaten alive. You've entered into the lion's den, and the only way out is with blood, sweat and tears. Let's go somewhere more… private. Shall we?"

Peeta felt tempted to just turn the way he came and leave. He had done what he intended to do. The painting had been taken by the servant. He'd been assured it was going directly into a safe room, following Snow's instructions. He tried to question how the painting would be placed inside said room, but the servant had left him inside this room. And now he was stuck with the drunkard, irresponsible tutor. But curiosity made him humor the man and follow him.

Once outside they had entered one of the many gardens. This one had no roses, and for that Peeta was grateful. He took gulps of the fresh air, trying to cleanse his lungs and calm his nerves. Abernathy was looking around, as if making sure they were not followed.

"I'll make this quick. You saw him… I know you did. He is a good man, who doesn't deserve this fate. You must know this. The Snow reign and the Law has to be stopped and bring back freedom to Panem's people. Life wasn't always this way, boy. Women aren't objects to be used and raped by men. Think of your baby girl… of the woman who carries her. They don't deserve to continue being subjected to this inhumane treatment. You and your Finn have to make them see… really see what's been done here. You have to make a choice. It is time for the Mockingjay."

Peeta listened to every word, each one making his insides churn. It was treason. A sure way to a quick execution, a revival of a very public spectacle for the enjoyment of the proud Capitol citizens, all devoted followers of the Law.

"Why do you say such things to me? Don't you fear I'll report every single word you've spouted off? Why me?"

Haymitch kept facing forward, his hands locked and resting on his lower back. Peeta wasn't certain if the man wanted to appear calm and collected. If anyone was watching, it would seem inconspicuous. He was ready to bolt and never look back. He took a few steps back, readying his escape.

"You've got a lot to lose, boy. It doesn't matter to me, if you tell on me. I'm dead anyway. This is no life. I once had it all in those woods you seemed mesmerized in. I've seen the real thing, lived it. I've experienced what real freedom is. Not this… prison you have known all your days. I have lived where no Law can touch you. Your woman…she lived it, too. Catnip was Gale's nickname for her. If not for those poachers, they would've made a lovely couple…with five o six kids running around the valley. It is too late for him, but don't make it so for Katniss. She deserves better than this, Peeta. I know you're a good man. This…is not your world. Help make it so."

Abernathy was about to leave him all alone in that garden, but Peeta stopped him.

"It would mean my life or Finn's, or both. How can I seriously consider such act of sedition? I-I love Finn…it is not fair to him. To obliterate what our lives mean to each other…For what? To accomplish your improbable dreams of revolution and total anarchy. How could it be accomplished? I have no power…"

The man with blue-gray eyes and wheat-colored hair, stood tall and squared his shoulders. He pondered what his next words should be, to give the decisive punchline, the winning statement that would persuade Mellark to join the Resistance.

"I've held my daughter, loved and cared for her until the last day she walked this earth. She was killed by Snow's scouting patrols. There was no mercy or afterthought. My wife killed herself and I was left alone. I said I had live in true freedom, but I have also lived the shackles of tyranny. What will happen when Katniss gives birth to your daughter, Mellark? Will you get to hold her in your arms? See her grow up and smile at you? Call you daddy? She'll belong to the Republic, and so will Katniss. You will never see them again. What you have to ask yourself is… Is Finnick Odair enough? Long live the Mockingjay!"

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick was fed up with the monotonous endless sessions. He wished he was teenager again, so he could run from his responsibilities and return to Peeta. He was missing him terribly, yet he feared what he would find when he returned home. Some inkling in his gut told him things would not be the same. Cruel thoughts had kept him company. He had envisioned homecoming to Peeta and no Katniss or the child.

He cursed the moment he thought with happiness of bringing a son into their lives. He should asked for a deferral, chosen a different vessel… he'd be awaiting for a son… Peeta's son. There were other options available to those with money. He could have hired Dr. Aurelius, who assured only sons as offspring. He was a despicable man, but one that got results.

Finnick eyed the liquor cabinet in the corner. It was empty. He had imbedded like never before. He found he was mean drunk, lusting after a blue-eyed, blonde artist he left back in the Capitol. Muttering to himself, "You better not break me…for there's no glue to piece me back together again…" He decided staying inside his room alone for another night was pointless.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The strobe lights hurt his retinas, making his head pound with the bass of the music. Bodies swayed, some bared for all to see and touch. He was sitting by the bar, drinking shot after shot. Finnick tried to think on how many days he had left of being separated from Peeta, but his brain was incapable of coherent thoughts at the moment.

There was too much ruckus surrounding him. The barkeeper kept winking at him, propositioning him. Finnick pretended he had missed the signs. But he wasn't left alone for long, as every five minutes someone would come along asking him to dance or offering to buy him drinks.

It was a mistake leaving his private quarters. Out and about would have been fun, if he had his friends with him. But Cinnie was back in the Capitol with his Flavius, probably staring at Cashmere's buns. This mental image made him chuckle out loud.

"What's so funny, Finnick? See something amusing? Like to share?"

He knew that voice… a voice from his past. One he wanted to stay buried in the recesses of his mind. He kept staring at his drink, not giving any response. A scratching noise let him know the man had moved the adjacent stool to sit on it. He could feel the man's body heat and smell his particular cologne. It was hard to control his body's immediate response of revulsion.

Why had he left his room in search for trouble?

He could have stayed in his room and ask for more alcohol be brought up. He closed his eyes, trying to keep his cool.

_Don't let him win… You have outgrown that part of your life. You're an Odair. Act like one._

The barkeeper came towards them, and immediately asked the newcomer what he liked to drink. The man asked for a whiskey double on the rocks. Once he had his drink, the man gulped it down in one gulp. He dropped the tumbler, almost breaking it and asked for another. He kept fisting his hands and shifting in his seat.

Finnick decided he didn't have to stay immobile. He could stand up and leave. Nothing was stopping him.

He hesitated a second too late.

"I've missed you, Nick. You don't know how much. Is it pathetic I treasure the moments I got to have you, when you were mine. You should have been mine — forever. If only I had the money to bribe someone in the Matrimonial Department. Our children would've been the envy of the Republic… I would have revered you. I would have loved you-"

Finnick recoiled at Heavensbee's personal pet name for him. As for the rest of his speech, he was searching for the restrooms, for he was definitely going to spew the contents of his stomach. A hand on his forearm held him back, "Take your filthy hand off me, Heavensbee. You better let me leave or I'll puke all over that brand new suit."

Brushing his hands away, Finnick swayed and bumped into people.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY! Fuck, everything is spinning…"

He was still heaving into the toilet, when he felt a hand rubbing his back. The stench was back. It was him. The man had the audacity to follow him, acting all caring and doting. It caused him to retch again. He was still panting, with a sweaty forehead. Tears were running down his face. His suit was ruined, making him think of Mags and how she would yell at him for the stains. He wanted to return home. He wanted his bed and Peeta's arms embracing him.

A handkerchief on his face, stinking of his past, cleared his face. He was sitting on the floor, inside the stall.

"I think it's finally over. No more drinking tonight, Nick. Come on, I'll take you back to your room."

His hands were trying to pull him up, but Finnick resisted. Didn't the man get it? It was over. It had been over for years. He didn't want him. It had been a mistake made in his youth and inexperience. One he wished he could banish from memory, but Heavensbee saw to it, to remind him every time they saw each other.

He used his own hands to stand up, and walked towards the washstand. He could see Heavensbee behind him, through the mirror. For a few seconds only the running water could be heard. His eyes lingered on his hands. He was stalling, but this had to be done.

Meeting his gaze, Finnick confronted his tormentor, "I'm not your Nick. I'm Finnick Odair, matched to Peeta Mellark. I love him, and will always love him. We'll have our children, and they will be the envy of the Republic. You have your life, your children, your partner, where I don't have a place or say in it, nor do I want to. What happened between us… is in the past. I don't want you to approach me in private ever again. Whatever relation we have in the future will only pertain to our duties for the Capitol, nothing more. Thank you, for sobering me up."

The older man was quick enough to stride behind him, standing flush to his back. His hands found his, holding them against the top of the counter. His mouth found his neck, his nose brushing it, inhaling his scent. Finnick felt like he was back in time, a stupid boy, incapable of moving, prisoner of this man's games, an object to be used for his amusement.

"Just give me one more night… I want one more night with my Nick. Don't you want to be my good boy? You were magnificent. A true star, kneeling at my feet. I won't make you do that again…Grant me a night to pleasure you, so I can make up for all I did to you… Let me heal your wounds."

He kissed under his earlobe, making Finnick shudder in loathing. It was a good thing he had nothing left to heave.

"Take your hands off me, Heavensbee. Don't make me report your conduct, for I will do so, without regret. I belong to another, and one I give myself freely. You meant nothing to me. Now, leave."

Their eyes met one last time through the reflection in the mirror. Heavensbee staring back at him, his shoulders slumped, showing his defeat and finally stood back.

Finnick gasped in relief, once he was alone in the restroom. His legs felt like jelly, causing him to hold the counter for support. Inside his mind all he could see was a replay of who he'd been as Heavensbee's Nick: the collar around his neck, the commands in his ear, the noise and laughter, the ridicule and the abuse. He'd been that man's sex slave.

After so many years, the past had resurfaced, but not to torture him. He wasn't the one of his knees begging. Now he'd finally had a small taste of vengeance.

An acrid aftertaste, as a memento.


	15. PART XV

**PART XV**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Mags kept constant vigil over Katniss. The girl had barely opened her eyes, when she did her gaze stared into space. Not a word was spoken from her lips. It was all Mags's doing, when she ate a bit of broth and drank a few sips of water. Katniss was still breathing, but her soul was hiding behind a façade of indifference. Inside her mind she kept seeing the dried blood on the canvas, the face looking back at her, eyes that she knew so well.

It was him.

It was her Gale.

Only he never had been really hers. Katniss had dreamt as a child, that they would be husband and wife when they got older, like her parents. It turned out not to be so. They tiptoed around each other, never taking that next step, thinking there was time… Their time was up. His life was closer to ending than ever. The stench emanating from the painting came like a diabolical flashback, causing Katniss to heave.

"There child, just take a deep breath. I'll bring you some more crackers you can nibble, to settle your stomach. It's just you and me for now. Don't think on what you saw. _Forget_ what you saw. Think only of the little darling growing inside you. You must live for her. We women are meant to endure all this suffering, just for that brief moment when you get to listen to your baby cry as it comes out of you. The miracle of life… I will never forget that cry."

Mags's eyes welled with tears, as memories inundated her mind. It had been a hard life, but she didn't regret it. She was destined to be here, to help this poor child keep going. Once again she thanked her master, her Tristan for keeping her close, for not sending her away. Brushing her tears away and swallowing her sorrow, Mags heard a hoarse whisper come from Katniss' chapped lips. It was difficult to understand her words.

"I-It is Gale. The painting… my Gale."

Katniss curled in a ball, as her body quivered with her sobs. There were no words of comfort. Mags let her grief her lost love, only offering her warmth. As her crying ceased, her breathing settled, Katniss forced herself from allowing the daze to consume her again. She needed something, though.

"M-Mags… Why?"

After getting no reply from Mags, Katniss thought her words were not heard. Just as she was going to ask again, Mags interrupted her.

"You ask why this happened… Not many living today would be willing to explain. Not many know or remember the past. I may not be so old, not really, but I remember. Panem wasn't always Snow's playground. There was a time men and women coexisted, side by side. Women were wives, mothers, friends…It all changed with a lie."

Mags stared out the window and settled herself on the rocking chair she had used to nurse her Finn.

"I was just a little girl…but I know it to be true. The women who taught me this life, would murmur in the darkness of this past, of a life they yearned for. Once, we stood as citizens, cherished partners of men. But dark days descended upon Panem, bringing civil unrest…a devastating drought destroyed fields of wheat causing food shortages that resulted in laborers' strikes. Thousands were going hungry. Men got violent demanding better work conditions and food, but no satisfactory answer was given by the ruling government at the time. Coriolanus Snow found the opportune moment to rise from anonymity, as the charismatic messiah. He had all the answers. The right words that everyone longed to hear. Why this calamity had befallen upon Panem's citizens? It was the big lie… women were to blame. Many marriages had ended, families ruined by divorce. Women's known promiscuity and depravity had ruined the moral principles of Panem's society."

Mags shook her head and stopped taking deep breaths, "The massive strikes all over Panem's factories and fields were men unsatisfied with the current status in their lives. Women had failed their purpose, corrupting everything they touched. It was time to revolutionize, establishing the Law and new order where men lived among men, as equals erecting families with real values of prosperity and unity. As blood was spilled in the streets of every district, men took his words as justification for civil war, a sort of cleansing. Women were brutally raped every time his speeches were broadcasted, known as the _Hunger Games_."

Katniss gasped in horror finally finding out what her parents had tried to shield from their precious daughters. A world where they would never be accepted as equals, as human beings worthy of rights and a chance at happiness and prosperity among others, not in Snow's Panem.

"In the midst of this chaos, Snow was proclaimed President of the Republic of Panem. To ascertain veracity to his claim, a woman, Johanna Mason, served as symbol of women's depravity and unfitness to be free citizens. She was accused of killing her family. She became the warning to all men, of what women were capable of doing. She was despised by all and later publicly executed. Her fate could befall any woman, and in this manner Snow assured women would be easily subdued and controlled."

Mags came back to Katniss' side and touched her cheek in affection.

"It was easier than controlling the workforce and giving them better working conditions. The segregation of the sexes gave him autonomy over the females, only productive in his new order as breeding vessels. If Snow had found a way to harvest children outside of a womb; he would've exterminated us all. And so it began, the Law was erected and accepted by all able-bodied men, with a silent agreement that anyone who spoke contrary to it disappears. Therefore, those that remember the past are dead or too afraid to speak…"

After her discourse, Mags held Katniss' hand and respected her silence. Katniss didn't know how to respond. It was too much information to grasp, only hopeless prevailed. She was a prisoner in this house, with no prospects of escaping to her family's woods. Gale was also a prisoner… a tortured human toy for the sole of amusement of a deranged tyrannical man.

All men were to blame.

They were his accomplices by remaining loyal to him and his Law. Were they so blinded by hate and fear, that they didn't see they had given up their freedom as well? Immersed in a state of complacency, the men were not questioning their way of life. The Law controlled every aspect of their daily lives, who they mated with, how many children they could have, and at what time period. They were sold a tangible culprit and they in turn resigned their individuality and right to choose, subjecting future generations of men to programmed lives, while the women were marginalized, stripped of their individuality for the only biological imperative: to bear the children and harvest their crops.

The female sex had been reduced to mindless slaves.

Katniss' experiences at the Hob had given inside knowledge on the best ways to die. Now she understood why so many women had chosen that fate. Her eyes searched for Mags, finding her alone in her grim recollections of Panem's history. The older woman was sitting by her bedside, her eyes looking glassy.

She was a brave woman, one who learned to conceal her true feelings and adapt to her harsh surroundings. Katniss had been cruel in her judgement of her. Mags was a survivor, even when she fell in love for her master. It was still a mystery how she got to stay with him and raise their child.

Would it be too much to ask, if she was graced with the same blessing?

Her only hope was getting to hold her daughter in her arms, listen to her first take of breaths, watch her eyes open… Anger was also her companion. This wasn't the world she wanted her baby girl to grow up in.

She touched her belly, knowing she had to live for her child. Katniss couldn't fall apart and let this pain consume her. She needed to survive, learn from Mags. Gale's fate didn't have to be hers. Tears slipped from eyes, as she remembered his tortured eyes staring back at her. His mouth sewn shut, silencing him forever…

It was the end of a dream, a life that would never be.

Gale didn't deserve this punishment for actuality living in freedom. He was being used as another ploy to cement control, to deter any who may think to deviate from Snow's version of law and order. Katniss was impotent to stop his undeniable end. It was better to grieve Gale, accept that death would only be merciful in these circumstances. Katniss had to dedicate her remaining time in the Odairs's home in finding whatever means to ensure her Dahlia's future.

Even if it meant using Peeta Mellark and his heart.


	16. PART XVI

 

**PART XVI**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Heavensbee couldn't keep still. He knew that what was brewing inside his mind was poison, but he felt compelled to take action.

It was jealousy.

It was rage.

It was impotence.

It was his love for a boy who was meant to be his.

Nick deserved better than a second-rate painter, with cerulean colored eyes and golden hair. Just a few words in the right ears, and Finnick Odair would be free…to be with him. He would give him whatever he wanted, including assistance in his rise to the rightful place among the best politicians of Panem's Republic. His Nick would bring a new take and insightful change by writing new amendments to the Law, like abolishing that antiquated system of mating.

He could clearly envision it and he would be the man behind it all.

His musings got interrupted by a creaking floorboard. Snow entered the chamber, looking a bit disheveled. His hair was all mused up, and his clothes looked creased. One of his ever-present servants with breasts exposed, bent forward allowing the President to attach the leash to the ring on her collar. Heavensbee looked away, keeping his attention on his drink. It was not polite to stare at Snow's pets, especially if not given permission to do so.

"Such a good girl. Now, kneel at my feet. Good. What's troubling you, Plutarch? I was having… some needs taken care of by one of Avoxes. I need to show you how well-trained I have him… pity he has to die soon… Well, enough of the suspense. Talk."

Heavensbee squirmed in his seat at Snow's sneer. It was clear he was not in the mood for frivolities. And what he wanted to discuss, could be seen as one in Snow's eyes. He coughed and sat his glass on the table.

“District 2 gave us a great show of what's been happening in other districts. Very interesting, I'm sure everything has been relayed to you, sir. It was Finnick Odair's first official meeting with the hierarchy of leaders… yet I didn't see him too enthused with the whole process. I've known the boy a long time. I've even hired his…mate, Peeta Mellark for a portrait of my son. But the reason I've asked to speak with you… well, I believe my poor Nick is suffering. This Peeta Mellark has failed as his life partner. Nick has always upheld the Law. His good father was a great public servant. You didn't find him in tears, alone and drinking heavily in some bar. I've never seen him so distraught and confided in me…his lover has betrayed him-" 

Snow stopped Heavensbee's tirade with a hand gesture.

“It is no secret you've had your eyes set on Odair's son. It is reprehensive, that you seem to think it is fitting I lose time hearing your jealous accusations against Mellark. Do you have any proof such infraction against the Law has occurred? Heed my words, Heavensbee. Your accusations may account for treason against the Law. Therefore, need to be punished to the full extent, no exceptions. Is your precious Nick responsible for any of it?"

"NO! Finnick is completely innocent, a victim. His partner has fucked the breeding vessel without Finnick present. Said vessel is already with child, a female child. A disappointment for Finnick, as you can imagine. All he wanted was to have a son with Mellark's eyes. It broke my heart seeing him so desolate. He is always the life of the party. My standing in the Capitol should be enough to commission an inquiry. I am only a concerned citizen, trying to protect our way of life, defending the Law above all else."

Snow patted the head of the kneeled avox, as if he was alone in the room. Heavensbee wanted to scream, but controlled the impulse. It would be detrimental to him, to his family, and ultimately to Finnick if he lost his temper with the most powerful man in the Republic.

"They are still young. Surely, they can try again for a boy worthy of the Odair name. It is a disappointment, a mild set back. As for the female, she belongs to Panem, as soon as she's born. She will serve, just as her mother. Do you have anyone to corroborate the act? Apart from the guilty, that stand accused of treason by you.”

Yes, Mags, Heavensbee thought. She was the answer to his prayers. She was a loyal servant of Tristan, more so to Finnick, her only son. Surely, she would testify to Peeta's misdeeds against her beloved Finn. Heavensbee nodded.

“There's another woman living in that house, Mags, former vessel of Tristan Odair. She is loyal to Finnick and she will testify."

Snow swallowed a red grape from this plate, already bored with the conversation.

"I will send the order. It will be handled carefully. I don't want this to be public knowledge until the last dirt is scrubbed off. You better be right, Plutarch. I am a patient man, but today you've tried it to within an inch of breaking. If this turns out to be the ramblings of your vindictive mind… let’s you say you might find yourself kneeling beside my current favorite toy. You are dismissed."

Without delay, Heavensbee left the room. It was done, there was no way of undoing it. Instead of feeling peace of mind, his chest felt oppressed by an incorporeal weight. Not knowing what the future would befall him and his family, he decided in which ways to ensure their wellbeing.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Returning to his home should have appeased his morose mood, but the walls seems to whisper secrets. Mags wasn't there waiting patiently for his arrival. The house seemed empty of life, just as his father passed away.

It filled Finnick with dread at what he thought he would see reflected in his Peeta's crystal blue eyes. Doors to the soul, his father had warned. The eyes of a man tell all, learn to see their darkness, their weaknesses, and become their master. But this was his Peeta, the man he loved. Could he see more than he wanted? Would he survive what stared plainly back at him?

Maybe his distress was for nothing. Peeta would smile at him and his eyes would reflect his love, his complete devotion, just as the day they were officially mated.

Taking his time, he poured another drink. She was here, within these walls. Growing that blob of cells that would become a female. Another vessel to bring forth the next generation of Panem's men. For some unknown reason this reality weighted down on him. It was his decision what became of them both, mother and child.

The sour taste in his mouth kept him from nodding off. Peeta wasn't home. Their room looked like he'd left it, as if Peeta hadn't slept in their bed all this time. Finn clenched his fists, his drink forgotten for now.

Their lives had been perfect, well nearly. The Law and its demand of producing the first heir had intruded on their blissful existence. The first child would be a Mellark, but the pride and joy of the doting fathers. He had imagined that boy…a little version of his Peeta. Never did he felt the need of a contingency plan to the other possibility, neither did he prepare for a complication imposed on their lives.

Finn didn't plan for a Katniss.

Which brought him back to the real reason he was back early from his trip from District 2. He rubbed his face, as if doing so he could rewind his mind, erase all he had witness. He tried not flinch as a flashback of what he had seen… a man raping a child. They justified the act saying she had just matured, making her a viable vessel. The man was the plantation's headmaster, clearly sent there for a clear purpose, as he would’ve been singled out in the Capitol as a savage beast. Away from prying eyes and under the protection of the Law, he had all the females he could abuse to produce more hands for production.

As long as he lived, Finn will never forget her frightened eyes begging for someone to save her. He did nothing. He stood there beside other supposedly civilized men, as that man strapped her to the cot and proceeded to brutally force himself on her. When the animal was finished, he kissed her brow and told her she was a good girl, doing her duty for Panem.

Now, he was back in his home, the Capitol. A place that held his father's partner guilty of the act of molestation and was executed.

Where was the Law that punished that savage man for what he'd done to that child?

What Law was there to protect the countless females misused in every other district? Not a single word existed to protect them.

It got worse. He wasn't clean, his actions condemnable. He was just as guilty.

_Katniss_

_Katniss_

_Katniss_

Her name kept going round and round inside his head. Yet, he hated Katniss, for she was destroying everything he loved…her gray eyes, her full lips, her small breasts. Individually, they were insignificant, nothing note worthy. But together, her attributes had captured Peeta's attention. He had seen it. It was why he had chosen her. Finn wanted to blame her, but in the end it was his doing. He could have been the one to take her. He could have chosen any of the other women instead. The what ifs were going to send him into a downward spiral of drinking and lunacy.

And there was the issue of the child, Peeta's daughter. Was he so ruthless and unashamed as to sentence Peeta's baby girl to the same fate as the one he witness being brutally raped?

Wishing for a quick death to the child was the most humane option.


	17. PART XVII

 

**PART XVII**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Mags found Finnick lying on the living room floor, with his drink spilled, and his snores. She felt a bit responsible for his current state. If only she could protect him from the world, from everyone set to hurt him, to keep him safe. If only she could have held him inside her body forever… She shook her head, at her dismal and absurd thoughts.

Mags had found happiness, even in her station. Yes, she had been a breeding vessel, and had found a kind man in Tristan Odair. His name came with lots of responsibilities and expectations. A renowned name must breed the best for the Republic. Her fellow companions were jealous of her, but at the same time warned her of the consequences of displeasing a man of his stature.

And here she still stood, in his ancestral home, walls that had seen tears, heartache, hate and betrayal of the most heinous nature. Looking at her son…her mind only tortured her with memories of the horrible past. Not of her own experiences, for she didn't really care what happened to her, but of her son’s, at the hands of a jealous, deranged lover.

Seneca Crane.

Involuntary shivers ran through her skin, as her eyes closed, seeing in her mind's eye what that…bastard had done to her Finn. Mags never registered in Crane's radar. He didn't view Mags as a real threat to his needs and affections. But once she birthed a son, things completely changed. Tristan was a father, his own flesh and blood breathed and lived among them. After the birth of the Odair heir, Seneca, was just the partner, set aside, bribed with ostentatious gifts and parties, but never really loved.

How she wished it would have been her at the hands of Crane’s ire and despair, instead of her beautiful boy. Mags was shocked when Tristan didn't kill him with his bare hands. It was his lawful right, as the betrayed party, within the Law's purview. After many years without a public execution, Seneca Crane served as the rightful offering for such an occasion to revive the capital punishment.

While in the districts no one was there to execute such justice, in the name of countless women…There was no Law to support it.

Finn groaned and sat up, rubbing his forehead. He was home and no longer alone. Mags stayed beside him, ready to serve him. Apparently, she was his most loyal…friend. Was that what she was in his life? Her eyes stared intently, never wavering from his face, as if he was lost. Maybe he was and she was there to help him find himself once again.

"Mags… Why did my father keep you here?"

At first, he thought she didn't hear him, his voice so soft in the near darkness. Then her eyes glazed over, as if she was seeing something in her head.

“Well, as his breeding vessel, a successful pregnancy which produced a male heir was seen, as a go-ahead to keep using said vessel to procure the next offspring. Your father had no complaints about my performance, therefore no concerns to look for another vessel. He kept me here, to watch over you. He was too busy to take care of you, and…your father's partner wasn't fond of children."

Mags’s gaze turned down until she closed her eyes, as she kneeled beside him. Finnick thought she was praying to some higher entity, but there was no god or religion approved by the Law. Man was the owner of his actions, set to dominate this world.

His head pounded like a ticking time bomb, making him regret drinking so heavily again. It didn't solve anything, only temporarily numbed his thoughts. When he was about to stand up and walk away, Mags started again, ”I miscarried one child… it was deemed a female by the doctor. It was no great loss for the Odair legacy. For a time, I feared it would mean I had to be separated from you, but it never happened. Your father was too stressed over some amendment and he was barely home. You were just a child… and Crane simply didn't care. I’d left you in your room… if only I’d stayed-"

Finnick stopped her reminiscing, by taking hold of her withered hands, ”You…you are the only person who’s stayed with me. Seen the good and the bad in my life and still you love me. I don't know if my father would be proud of the man I've become…It wasn't your fault, none of it. Seneca Crane is no more and can't hurt me.”

Her sniffling let him know she was silently crying. It was the first time in so long, that she allowed such display in front of him. The last time had been that day…his father's distressed voice in the background and her sobbing.

"Your father was irate. I was certain he would kill him…The execution didn't heal him. It made him determined. Tristan Odair was set to defy the Law…To defy President Snow. But others weren't willing to give up their lives. He had shown his greatest weakness to his enemies…You. You were his Achilles' heel. A simple threat on your life was enough to quiet your father. He bawled like a babe, at my feet. N-never in my life…would I've imagined such a sight. Your father begged for forgiveness. I absolved him of any guilt…for my love for him was such, that nothing could taint it. I loved him, Finn. As much as I could. And I thank him everyday for allowing me to be by your side."

It was his turn to keep silent and reflect on her words. His father had a guilty conscience? Wanted to defy the Law? Had been set to defy Snow?

"Did he stop? Was that his last stand against the Republic and the Law?"

Mags shook her head and cleared her face from all her tears. Her eyes locked on his, she breathed deeply, ”Your father kept his defiance a secret. He found sympathizers and organized underground meetings. Helped certain people find strategic places in the Republic. If you must know…your father was co-founder of the Rebellion. He acted as their asset with real knowledge of the atrocities done with impunity under the seal of approval of President Snow. I believe your father's untimely death was no accident. Someone betrayed him and it cost him his life.”

“Why are you revealing the past? What motive is behind your words? Mags… Do you want me to rebel against the Republic?"

Mags couldn't hold back her sobs and she started to tremble. Finn approached her cautiously and embraced her in his arms. His scent calmed her. It was so reminiscent of his father's. In a way, she felt like he was still with her.

Her son was holding her. There was hope brewing inside her. Her Finn's heart wasn't completely damaged. He was capable of redemption despite what Crane and Heavensbee had done to him.

"I-I don't know…the past has decided to haunt me and I can’t keep silent no more. I see your father in you. I see the regret in your eyes…there's still time. You aren't completely responsible. This government has corrupted everything… I know that if you want to change it you would, but I couldn't bear to see you perish the same way your father did. So my fears have taken hold of me. I survived without him, but I know I won't without you. You are my life. The very second you breathed outside my body, my life has been yours. I wasn't granted anymore children… I was only blessed with you, and I will live until you want me to."

Finnick tried to hold back his emotions, but tears welled in his eyes. His hand softly touched Mags’s worn face. It spoke of a life, not her own, a breeding vessel in service to a man, that at least had been kind to her. Even more than anyone in Panem he was sure, for his father had kept her close to their son.

How many favors it had cost him?

Finnick shuddered just thinking about it.

"You are facing a challenge… Katniss… Peeta… their child. I know you'll do the right thing, 'cause I know your heart. You will find a way.”

He chuckled. So much faith in him, Mags truly loved him like no other. It was strange for him to believe his father had loved him so. But her words had said as much.

"I-I don't want harm to come to them… But I love him, Mags, and I feel…I'm losing him. She has something I can never give him. His flesh, his blood, lives inside her. And Peeta loves that child. I don't have a leverage. I'm not my father. I don't think I can keep them all together. Not here, not with the Law, as is, and certainly not with President Snow. And sending them to another district… I might as well kill them now. What I've seen…there's nothing to wash it away. It lives inside my head, in the background, torturing me, reminding me. I did nothing to stop it. I have seen but a small taste of what life is like for females in the periphery of the Capitol. I'm not blind anymore and yet I want to gouge my eyes out."

Mags kissed his forehead, as if he was a mere babe in his mother's arms. If only he was small and incapable of confronting the world, in need of a mother's love and protection. He had experienced it; unconditional and unwavering. It was unheard of in the Capitol, and probably in the outer districts as well.

Everyone deserved such love.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta returned very late to the Odair home and to his surprise Finnick was back. His lips tasted of beer and cigarettes. His blood was still buzzing from adrenaline and pure fear. He’d been present in a secret meeting. Abernathy had persuaded him to attend one. Not everyone in said meeting was pleased with his participation, but he proved his value by his testimony. He was another victim of the Law. His female unborn child was set to be taken from her mother, as property of the Republic, destined to become a breeding vessel or a farmer's slave.

He listened to other stories and realized he wasn't alone. In the group, some of the men had been wildlings, outlaws just like Katniss’s family. They told how they had been caught and tortured, all sanctioned under the Law. Families were torn apart. Most men executed for treason or used for the pleasure of others, as an example to anyone who defied the Law. The women re-distributed like animals in serve to the Republic, never as a person, with rights to freedom and choice.

Peeta was left with no choice as well. His life had been decided for him. His union with Finnick had been ordained by an automatic system. The Law dictated when he should procreate, how many, and for how long. If his children were female, they automatically belonged to Panem.

The scales had been removed from his eyes. His ears were receptive, and could hear loud and clear. He could no longer conform to the _status quo_ ; he was no longer a mindless citizen of the Republic of Panem.

He found Mags cleaning up a spilled drink on the floor. Her eyes were rimmed red, as if she had been crying. He was about to inquire about Katniss, when he heard a hum coming from the garden. He walked into the inner open space and found Finnick sitting in the darkness. The crooning was coming from him. His eyes looked bloodshot and his forehead was creased.

“I'm home early. Should I ask where have you been? No? Not with Cinnie and Flavi, I bet. They are my sort of companionship. I'm drunk, just letting you know. Poor Mags is cleaning my mess, like always, Good ole' Mags. Did you miss me? I did miss you… But I think you had your hands full here-"

Peeta grinned and shrugged his shoulders. Finnick hadn’t been chatty drunk.

"I finally finished Snow's painting. Took it to the Presidential mansion. Bumped into Abernathy… We talked about real interesting stuff. He wanted me to meet some people… Am I boring you?"

Finnick stared glazed-eyed to the sky, not paying attention to Peeta's words. His insecurities were rising once more. He was afraid of what he would find in Peeta's eyes.

"No…You met some people, that’s good. Art minded people? Got any new potential clients? I'm sure their subjects should be more inspiring than what Snow had you paint-“

Peeta growled in disgust at Finn’s statement, “How about an innocent man, with his mouth sewn shut and forced to perform unspeakable acts for our President? A man who only wants to live freely in the woods with his family? A man with a n-name… Fuck! Finn, he's going to die, as retaliation for the Rebellion, always the Law, above all else. When does it stop?"

Finnick sneered at the darkness that surrounded him. There was no end in sight to the injustice, the suffering, the abuse of power; all in the name of the Republic and its Law, for the good of Panem. Peeta had broken a vow of secrecy. He now knew what the subject of Snow’s portrait and it was treason. It meant they had to pay with their own lives for the transgression. The cycle never-ending, that kept every citizen in line.

"I didn't hear you say a word. Not. One. Word. Understand? Don't repeat it, to anyone. You may trust me, but I don't know if I should trust you, Peeta. Learn from past history, learn it and keep it close to you. My father died for trusting those beside him. I paid a price, for his trust on someone he thought would never betray him. I can only trust that old woman, on her knees, cleaning day after day, taking care of me. She is my mother. Do you know your mother? No, you don't. No one has broken off the oppression. My father went around it and kept her here. And yet he was just another instrument, as I am.”

Finnick sighed and looked at Peeta, his eyes searching, and there it was, the guilt reflected back. So, it was done. If his head hadn't been killing him, he would have been angry. But his body ached all over, and it needed sleep.

Peeta opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out.

"I'm tired. And there it is. We are just pawns in a chessboard. I was wrong to have thought myself above it, when clearly I am just another peasant. I want out of the game, and I think you want out, too. What it will cost us? Is a life precious to you? _Yours_ is to me… and hers and the child is to you. Check."

Without looking at Peeta again, Finnick left the garden singing under his breath, a lullaby.

While Peeta felt his energy drain, like he had become liquid, and was about to splat into drops on the ground. The message in between the lines was Finn knew. The lines had been drawn and Peeta was standing on the other side, with Katniss and his Dahlia.

 _Check_.

 

 

 

 


	18. PART XVIII

 

**PART XVIII**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was unexpected, but his touch was tentative. It felt like he was asking for permission now. Peeta wondered if his skin had been branded by her scent, one he couldn't wash off. Finnick was back, but they were not the same. Peeta wasn't the same. His eyes had seen things, that could never be unseen. And now he knew there were others willing to sacrifice their lives to change, to overthrow, and to triumph. Even in their bed, he could still hear their stories, remember their faces. It was impossible not to be moved, and not want to join their effort.

The question that remained…Would Finnick betray his trust and rat him out to the peacekeepers? Had their relationship been damaged to the point of jealousy and revenge as the only path left that would end with their mutual destruction?

A kiss on his neck, were a mere brush of his soft lips.

A single teardrop fell from Peeta's eye. It wasn't fair to Finnick, what he'd done. A selfish righteous act of a lovesick fool.

"I don't want to be away from you… I missed having you right beside me in that hotel bed. And you… you seem to have missed me too. You didn't sleep on this bed. I bet you spent all your time in that attic of yours…Did you paint her? Did she give you a piece of her soul? Something no one else owns, but you…Doesn't she know I own yours…"

Finnick's lips changed to teeth, as the mauled his neck, marking Peeta as his. It was no random act. Finnick had a purpose in mind.

 _Don't think of her, think of us, what we have. Their devotion to each other; their lives together_.

“How was the visit to the other District? Did you meet with other distinguished citizens of the great Republic of Panem? How are they treating the women over there, Finn?"

It was a petty move on his part, but Peeta felt compelled to hurt him. It has begun…

"It was a wonderful experience… Heavensbee wanted to fuck me, and tried to in a fucking bathroom. Lots of alcohol and pats in the back for those self-absorbed assholes. I believe that if President Snow asked them to suck his dick, one by one, would drop to their knees and do so…It might as well happened already. It wouldn't be so bad in the big scheme of things, not like watching a mere girl of no more than twelve, be raped in front of said assholes. You know what the worst part was? No one did a thing, including this asshole. I stood there while she pled, while she wailed and whimpered in pain. It was the man's right; it was all under the Law… So, if you ask me how it was, it was a phenomenal, eye-opening experience."

By the end, Finnick's voice had broken, and both had tears running down their cheeks.

Words left unsaid between them were swallowing them whole. A pain Peeta couldn't describe inundated his chest and extended toward his extremities.

"I-I love you, Finn. I do. And right now I want to drown in it, for I don't know nothing else. I want to take away your pain, but you won't grant me that. A tortured man will die, and a girl gets raped under the same Law. A Law you've helped stand. It is time, we stand together behind the right side. My daughter deserves to live, Finn. A real life. I won't allow her to be used for the greater good of the warped ideals of a mad man that has oppressed his people for far too long. It has to stop.”

Turned on their sides, both looking into each other's eyes, there was no place to hide. Finnick gave Peeta a weakened smile, and brushed his lips against his.

"I haven't loved anyone else like a love you…It breaks me to even think…I don't want to see your daughter, with your eyes, pleading to be saved. This girl, with her coffee-colored skin, and bruised cheeks will haunt me until my dying day. I don't want to be responsible for it no longer. I believe going against Snow has cost others their lives, but even if I die for it, my only hope is…You get to hold your daughter in your arms, Peet."

Peeta held his sobs and held Finn in his arms.

"Dahlia. Her name is Dahlia. I've seen her…in my dreams. She's running in a meadow. And she's beautiful. But I want you with me, so we can see her grow up, and love her together, Finn. You wanted her in our lives. You will save her. I know it.”

Finnick kissed Peeta’s forehead, letting him keep hold of him, as a comfort.He knew their time together was limited. What they were discussing wasn’t going to end well.It was treason and it was paid with blood spilled.

“She will have your eyes…and she will be the most important person in your life. And I'll live until I can make it happen."

Finnick pulled Peeta closer, tugging Peeta's upper lip, then brushing it with his tongue. An act done with ease, done a million times between them, but at this moment, meant an understanding within mates. Peeta reciprocated, with bite of his own, this time on Finnick's lover lip. They both grinned, feeling playful in the midst of the lingering sadness that surrounded them. And just as Peeta was about to say something, Finnick stopped him with one finger against his moist lips. He shook his head, physically saying not now.

_Later, you can break my heart, but now it is our time._

With their chests touching, hearts booming inside their heads, Peeta and Finnick were all that was left in that bed.

“I want you…"

It didn't matter who said it, both wanted the joint embrace. Hands and legs entwined, with clothes discarded nothing was barring them.

_Was this a goodbye? Was this the end of them?_

Peeta closed his eyes for he couldn't face it, and apparently his grip turned too firm.

"Not that hard, Peet… Open your eyes. I'm here."

His eyes reflected acceptance and love, above anything else. There was no anger, jealousy or distrust in Finnick's eyes, and Peeta wept as his lips crashed on Finn. It was too much, and not enough. The pain living inside his chest was expanding, looking for an outlet.

“I-I forgive you… Please, forgive me…"

With watery eyes, Finnick kissed his Peeta with all his love, with all his forgiveness, knowing they needed it. The lingering finality hadn't escaped him, but he decided it was to be lived. The future wasn't written yet, and he was still breathing.

"I'll give in, and you will give in to me," Finnick murmured on his skin.

"Mine for as long, as you'll allow me."

His mind wanted to punish him, as he was in the throes of release. A sole image invaded his head, the eyes of the girl ravaged in that field, only they transformed into gray eyes, and he could see himself holding the woman… she wasn't faceless or nameless.

With tortured wail, Finnick came. It wasn't peaceful. It wasn't what he had envisioned. His conscience had set itself to annihilate what was left of his very soul.

Katniss.

The girl was Katniss.

And he was the rapist.

He had collapsed on top of Peeta, as his body shuddered and he had trouble breathing. Peeta didn't know what to do, how to help him. His own arousal forgotten, already diminished, Peeta held him in his arms, rocking him like a little child. It was a long time, before Finnick was able to utter a coherent word.

"I did it. I didn't care then. I am not blameless, Peeta. I did it. I forced you to do it. I am no different from those men. The Law was my shield, where I hid my cowardice. My father stood, just as me, and did nothing. But I won't continue to be a pawn serving the oppression. I refuse to be automaton, designed to follow without question the Law that has reigned over Panem. I-I don't want to be my father, Peeta."

Peeta's only words in response, "I know.”


	19. PART XIX

 

**PART XIX**

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Heavensbee got what he wanted in the end. An inquiry had been set by order of President Snow. Peeta Mellark and his secrets will be revealed and he could finally get his Finn back.It was pointless to defend that insignificant artist.Finn would see his error and come back to him.He could taste the sweet tang of his sweat. How he misses that boy.The best one he had ever had.No one could ever compare. No wonder that Crane had succumbed to temptation. The Odair men were legendary in looks and strength.

Now he just needed to wait.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The Capitol was buzzing with the rumors going round and round amongst its citizens. Peeta had lost any hope of getting new clients and all pending work had been canceled.It didn’t matter in the end. He had other more pressing matters…like how to save his daughter and protect Katniss at the same time from being taken away. He’d stayed away from Abernathy, in fear that he was being watched and he would end up betraying him. His hope was after all in the man and his cause. 

His room didn’t held any more of his past inspirations. The only work he could do lately is drawing his Dahlia. Every single feature is revealed in his dreams of her, of a future he wants so much, to be real. Mags would keep it all organized and clean, but she barely gave him a single glance.It turns his stomach, knowing what she knew his sins. 

The only reason he wasn’t in a cell was because of Finnick and his family’s standing in Panem’s society.It wasn’t going to hold for long, as Finnick struggled to use his connections, trying to persuade someone to speak on their behalf and convince Snow of stopping the investigation. Judgement was still in everyone’s eyes if he walked outside the walls of their home. 

Peeta knew their time was getting short and the options even more hopeless. He was practically a prisoner in his own home, having to ignore the woman who carried his child, and be mindful of any word that could be used against in the presence of anyone aside from Finnick. He was afraid of what Mags would say if she was questioned.She would be the perfect witness Heavensbee needed to prove his claim.

He knew Katniss still breathed and his child grew inside her belly, but he hadn’t spoken or shared the same space as her for days, as per Finn’s instructions. Mags’ the only one who spent any time with the girl. As for Finnick, he tried to stay away from everyone, drowning in paperwork and alcohol.He wanted to find something to end their plight, to bring forth a viable option that would help them all. He confessed to Peeta that sadly he wasn’t as clever as he thought, as cunning and ruthless as his father had been. 

A knock at his door brought him back to the present, “Come in.”

It was Finnick looking haggard and slightly drunk.It had become his everyday look lately.

“I-I don’t have any news…Only that we should consider doing a suicide pact and end it together. The Law won’t give us much, not what you want, not what I want. Peeta… We only have two options. I renounce our union, freeing us from each other. We can state private reasons, end the rumors and the investigation quietly.Snow will be appeased and Heavensbee will believe himself victorious. You would be free to do as you please, as would I. We can start over.You can move to another district, and be forgotten…But there would be no way for Katniss and the baby to be helped or stay in our lives.Not with the Law as is, Peet.”

He drops on the divan, defeated.His eyes are bloodshot and his lips chapped and bleeding, as he bites them harshly. Peeta holds back any reply, his hand caressing over Dahlia’s face, the one he had just drawn. He’s heard the words, but he refuses to believe them. It couldn’t be over, there had to be way out for all of them. 

“Peet…You have to understand, I’m trying everything in my power to do.I also have to careful in how I do it. This can even bring us closer to ending our lives if the wrong ears get a wind of it. There’s the second option. I can quit my position, give up this home, my father’s legacy, all that living in the Capitol entails. We can move to an outer district, one that’s faraway from the Capitol’s watchful eyes, from Heavensbee and Snow. With my inheritance I could probably get a nice piece of farmland, where you can see your daughter grow up, where Mags can live out the rest of her days along with Katniss to work the land. You would have a loft in the barn to paint and draw every single piece of that land, your Dahlia, the animals and the trees, the weeds, even Kat and her gray eyes…”

Finnick knew that the second option was a pipe dream, and “if only” clause that would only be possible if blood was paid in full.He has no problem with paying it with his own. He was so tired.He couldn’t do it anymore.He was done with the Capitol and its lies, of what men did to other men, to what men did to an innocent child.He wasn’t capable anymore to stand by and be witness to it anymore. If he needed to die, then so be it. 

Peeta and his daughter are worth it. 

Katniss is worth it.

Peeta comes back from wherever his mind had taken him, as he imagined Finn’s second option.He could envision it clearly in his head, see his daughter in their farm, laughing and running free.Yes, this is an option they could all live in.Why hadn’t Finnick said it before? It is the only option available to them.Fuck the Capitol and Heavensbee.Let them keep their entitlement.Finnick had only been miserable here and this way they would all be free to live as Katniss had lived with her family.

“Yes, let’s quit the Capitol.Find somewhere else to settle and make a new life. We won’t need much, just each other and no one will be watching our every step, judging our every move, and be envious of what we have.Please, Finn… I know this is all we have known, but imagine our lives in that farm.I can see it, it’s like my dreams of Dahlia.She will be born free, as she should have been from the start. Free to make a choice, Finn.No Law. No Snow.We can share that future together, you and me. You’ll see her and love her, too.”

Finn stares out the window, looking at what he would be leaving behind if he so chose to quit his Capitol career, sacrifice his standing, all for his Peeta.Yes, he could, he would do anything for this man, his love, and for Mags, too. His mother deserved a peaceful life away from the ever seeing eyes of the Law that has ruled her existence.

“I don’t think I’ll miss much from this place. Well, maybe Cinni.I will work with this second option.Have to make it so we don’t attract more attention and give ammunition to Heavensbee’s accusations. It is all in the phrasing and paperwork, that will give us the loophole to achieve our purpose. Having a farm will requiere hands to work it, and that’s what I’ll use as justification. You just need to trust and wait, Peet.”

Finn kisses Peeta’s forehead and leaves him be. It was all in the wording, to simply trust and wait. After all Finnick had been bred to be a true politician, a man who could lie to sell any idea.In this case, a plan that was doomed from the start, and only a naive, inexperienced man could believe.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Finnick doesn’t come home for a few days.Peeta frets around, even going as far as screaming at poor Mags.She keeps her head down and doesn’t give him a reply.She knows what’s at stake.Her son is risking everything and she fears it will be for nothing.If only she would know what to do.It has been a long while, but she truly misses Tristan now.He would’ve known what to do in any situation.He would have been able to save their son. 

A Peacekeeper knocks and enters without waiting for permission.He doesn’t need it.The Law gives him the authority to enter and question whomever he wants.

“Citizen Peeta Mellark, I’ve come to question this…vessel, as material witness of crimes you’ve been accused of committing against Finnick Odair and the Law that binds your union. You may not be present.You will be questioned as well, but not today.”

Mags drops her rag and moves slowly in the direction the man commands.Her hands tremble, even as she tries to keep calm. Her mind goes over every moment of her son’s life, the first time she saw him,his hair and his eyes, the very image of Tristan Odair.He has to live and she will do everything. Even if lies were all she had.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

“Are you sure of this, Finn?” 

Cinna could not understand what had happened to make Finnick leave behind the life he’d fought so hard to obtain. Heavensbee didn’t deserve to win and he felt Finn was letting him rule over him once again.

“I have to leave… Capitol life isn’t for me anymore. I don’t want or need to be amongst these people any longer.Peet and I deserve a quieter life, without having to fear what our neighbors are planning behind our backs.I don’t want to have to watch what I say or do in my own home, Cinni. I haven’t had a moment’s peace in weeks. Everyone is judging us, my Peet doesn’t have any work and frankly my promotion only has brought me nightmares.I hadto be witness to something atrocious. Fuck, Cinni.I’m done.Just accept it and help me.I can’t say another word.It will only implicate you and you won’t be able to lie.I don’t want to bring you into this… I can’t be responsible for your life as well.”

Cinna holds the envelope, “I will keep these papers safe. No one has to know I have them.Finn… You’re scaring me. Be careful. Eyes and ears are everywhere.You quitting doesn’t look good, not after all you have done to get here.Stating your reason as you want a simple life? They will know you want to protect Peeta.Peacekeepers will keep digging.Your past isn’t a secret.Heavensbee spoke directly with Snow.This won’t go away.You know this. This looks like a desperate attempt to spare your lover from the Law.You’ll be running away to some godforsaken district to vegetate in shit and grain. Do you really believe they will let you take the vessel and the child?A female child? Maybe Tristan Odair got to keep your mother, but are you persuasive enough to accomplish that? What leverage can you use?You have nothing to hold over Snow.Nothing matters to our blind and dumb Capitol constituents. They will see no injustice to sway them your way.”

Cinna tries to hold his sobs, but failed.He knew that his longtime friend was going down a road that would only bring death.He could see it reflected in his gaze.Finnick Odair was resolute and didn’t care if he was lamb to the slaughter.All that mattered was Peeta and his child.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

“ATTENTION CITIZENS OF CAPITOL’s PANEM: Your attendance is obligatory of the public execution of one traitor of our Law.It will be held in Market Square at noon.No business shall open until after one.Transmission will be provided to all districts, as celebration of our Law.”

Abernathy reads the announcement aloud to all his members in attendance.Only a few are present this time.Everyone is on edge and more so now with the public execution.It is abundantly clear who the sacrificial offering would be.Gale Hawthorne is no longer amusing the President, so he will serve as a reminder that traitors are not be tolerated in Snow’s Panem.Abernathy would gladly give his life for the freedom of Gale Hawthorne, for Peeta Mellark, for his baby daughter, for the all the women abused and forgotten, for the Mockingjay.

“Haymitch…how to we stop this?That man doesn’t deserve this.He was free, living the life we all should have a right to.We should help him escape and bring forth the revolt finally to the Capitol. This should be the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for so long.”

“Gather around, gentlemen.Our time is now.The Mockingjay is singing…Can’t you hear, it?I said, CAN’T YOU HEAR IT?”

Peeta didn’t want to come to the meeting.He knew he was probably facing man charges and only had precious moments of freedom. Heavensbee had blabbed to Snow aboutsuspicions he had about the Odair household.The man was a spineless bastard, who lusted after Odair.It was sickening how the Capitol only bred envy, lust and violence. 

The time is now to end Snow’s tyranny.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Katniss wakes up in the middle of the night with cramps.At first she thinks is indigestion, but blood between the sheets implies something is wrong.She screams for Mags, for she fears her baby is dying.She holds her belly, trying to hold her in, begging for her to stay inside her body.

“Please…please stay inside.Don’t leave me.You’re all I have left.Please, baby girl.I need you, please don’t leave me.”

Mags finds her clutching her abdomen and sees the blood.She closes her eyes and makes a small prayer.Maybe this is what’s meant to be, the only answer to all that has befallen.

“Oh my dear child! Let me help you.I’ll get the doctor, but first you have to calm yourself. Bleeding sometime happens, you don’t worry yourself yet.Shhh, let me clean you up.”

Katniss allows Mags to help her, letting go of every thought.There was nothing she could do.If her daughter was dead, she might as well die too.There was no point to keep living.Her family, her sister were dead.Gale was a slave and probably was dead by now, at the hands of the monster they called Snow.It would be fitting she would die now alongside the one she had left, the only one that mattered most to her.

Mags could see the light leaving her, how Katniss was giving up and shook her, “None of that now.You hear! The boys need you. Need this girl, too. If you let her go…They are fighting for you, for her, so you better fight now!This girl will live and see the sun and the trees you love so much. You have to live for what I never imagined could be mine.You will hold your daughter and you will teach her about love, the kind most have been denied, a mother’s love.Now, drink this.I’ll be right back.You better have no more tears when I come back.”

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

“She should remain in bed for the next few days. Drink this tonic and eat every two hours.It was a close call.”

The doctor left the Odair house after speaking with Finnick alone. He thought it had been a missed opportunity to end the situation, but Finnick refrained from punching the man. It would only help bring Peacekeepers into their home.The important thing was that the child was still inside the womb.Peeta was holding vigil outside Katniss’ room. 

The only sound in Finnick’s study was the clock, counting down the minutes, seconds…reminding him that time was almost up.A man was about to die in the first public execution in years and their lives were under scrutiny.His plan was underway, but at what cost, was yet to be determined. 

One thing was certain, his days were numbered.


	20. PART XX

**PART XX**

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Silence.

No one freely wanders the streets of the Capitol. The date of the first public execution in years is here. The Market Square has been scrubbed and cleaned. The execution stand erected in the very center of the plaza. Not a detail has been left amiss. President Snow demands perfection. Heavensbee stands beside him overlooking the report of logistics for the most anticipated event.

"There will be simultaneous broadcast all over the Districts. This will show dissension won't be tolerated perpetrated by any citizen of Panem. If need be to be a weekly event, so be it. These children of mine need to learn once and for all not to take more than what's been given to them. I've given them greatness and they think to know better."

Heavensbee's skin crawls with the implication of weekly executions. Snow must not have meant to threaten his darling Finn.

"How's the inquiry into Mellark's indiscretions, Sir?"

Snow drinks from his tumbler and motions for one his servants to refill it to the brim. His eye scan over Heavensbee with a sneer. The man bores him to death, and his desperation makes him want to play with his emotions. Clearly, this child needs to be reminded who's on top.

"Things are moving forward, as you requested. The Interrogations are on-going, gathering information regarding the Odair-Mellark union. Won't say more until I get the complete disclosure from my trusted men. For now, you should find delight in this momentous ceremony. Your reward will come soon enough, Heavensbee. Now let's toast to a 100% viewership!"

Heavensbee gulps down his drink, dread filling his belly as he realizes he has no guarantees his plan will end as he intended.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The noose hangs empty. The body no longer is present at the execution stand. It is business as usual at the Market Square. Every citizen walks about shopping and talking among themselves. Not even a whole day ago a man was hung, left to choke to death, broadcasted all over the districts and the citizens have acted as Snow intended.

Haymitch strolls around giving his signal to his people, letting them know a meeting is imperative. He knows this won't be the last execution. Snow will continue to kill any emerging rebellion. He is ready to be the next one hanging from a rope. Death doesn't scare him. It won't stop his spirit, the cause will live on. Only he suspects Snow already has picked out his next victim. They need to be ready to respond accordingly.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Finnick paces outside Katniss' room until he finally opens the door. Moonlight shines in and he notices she isn't sleeping, as he was hoping to find her. Katniss looks at him startled at his presence.

"I-I'm sorry for disturbing you. I wanted to see for myself how you were doing… It's been a stressful couple of days-"

Katniss turns back to stare at nothing. Tears stream down her face and she allows him to see them. She looks shrunken in, her skin sickly pale, with dark purplish spots under her eyes.

"The man that was executed… Gale Hawthorne. I knew him. He was supposed to be my husband, the father of my children. We lived free without the Law, without you, without pain, no Panem or the Capitol, no districts. I was free to choose how to live my days in that forest. Your people took me from my family. Killed them and brought me to hell… made me a slave, to be raped and to be the vessel of your precious boy."

Katniss scoffs and stares into his eyes daring him to contradict her. Let him send me to my death, Katniss thinks. She sees no point in denying ending her life is the only way to be free. Dahlia will be spared of ever being denied her right to choose, her body not her own to command. No, Dahlia will never be just a living womb to breed men for Panem.

"Only I didn't even get that right… No boy in here."

Finnick gazes at her hand caressing her protruding belly. He slowly approaches her and Katniss pushes back.

"I'm not here to hurt you. I came here to make you a promise. There are no words to change what has come to pass between us. I just hope I'm not too late in making rights of so many wrongs… Mags, my mother, I was lucky to keep her. I want to honor my father and I believe in doing this… I will do everything to make it possible for your Dahlia to live free. My most greatest ambition at this point in my life is for the rest of Panem to be free of the Law and Snow. I'm ready to pay the price, Kat. I'm no longer afraid. It is the first step towards freedom."

His hand finds her chin, "No more thinking of leaving Peet without holding his baby girl in his arms. Just give me more time… Trust and wait."

Once the door closes behind him, Katniss can breath again, as she feels a kick from within.

Trust.

Wait.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The words keep coming. It doesn't stop. No more silence is tolerated in the Capitol. One of their own, not an unknown rebel, blatantly defies the Law, their way of life, and the legitimacy of their President Snow. Men can't turn deaf and dumb when it is staring them right in the face. An Odair once again gives light to scandal without fear of reprimand, knowing too well it can be extinguished with a simple order from a withering tyrant.

Gale Hawthorne may have not resonated with the citizens of the Capitol, but one Finnick Odair does. He is just like them and he has something to say.

A truth like it has never been spoken before, out in the open.

Propaganda flyers are being delivered to counteract his act of defiance, stating he's suffering from some mental malady and will be under strenuous treatment for his betterment.

Haymitch Abernathy picks up the latest Snow-approved newspaper and sneers at the lies.

Unrest.

Finally.

Odair has done for the cause what no one had since the Mockingjay, face head on the murderous snake that had infected their country. Blood in the streets is the answer. Districts are not backing out of the fight. There are things that can never be forgiven.

Odair will be scarified, there was no doubt in Haymitch's mind. Snow needed the perfect specimen to put brakes on the Rebellion, to hold back his children. Only the old fool could think he could bring fear and terror to people who've lost so much and faced even worse at the hands of his convoluted world-view and his most priced accomplishment, the Law, the all seeing-eye that directed every aspect of men and the women he'd enslaved into a myopic sense of being, the production of more men for the his Republic.

His way was not the only way to live.

Odair's words resonate and can't be taken back. He has made women human beings, that suffer under a Law that only serves to dehumanize their country, allowing brutal abuse and legalized reproductive slavery, denying every citizen the right to think, choose and believe for themselves.

The Law is Snow, what he thinks, what he chooses and what he believes is Truth.

Odair's breathing days depend on how successful Snow's lies stop the unstoppable.

Long Live the Mockingjay!

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The walls show signs of past occupants. Bloodied nail markings, even pieces of nails are testament to their plight. Finnick doesn't stir from his pallet on the disgusting floor. The only person he expects coming for him, to gloat won't get what's expected from him.

It is done.

If blood needs to be paid, let it be his alone. He will face this last challenge with stoic resolution. Not a single twitch or regret will befall him. If Heavensbee thought he would get his Finn back… He smirks in the semidarkness.

The gate closes with a loud clang. Footsteps follow as the intruders walks around the small cell as if admiring a masterpiece.

"If your father could see you now… A waste of his genetic prowess. A pity he didn't sire more of you. I would've mind having one of you for my private collection. Such looks, it is no wonder Heavensbee salivates at the mention of your name. Poor man is going to lose his mind when he sees you hang in a few days. He believes you're receiving "corrective therapy" for your transgressions as every citizen has been informed. But you and I know better, right? You've taken fruit from the poisonous tree, therefore, are incurable."

Finnick keeps quiet, not giving in to rage, not yet.

"As for your Peeta and his whore, I will find them. They can't hide for long, and those who've helped them will be made an example. You defy me, you will know it will be the last time. I'm no forgiving father, very much like yours was. He didn't forgive his Seneca. You lack his restrain and poise. He truly was the perfect politician, one of the most distinguished citizens of Panem."

"Are done hearing yourself speak nonstop nonsense? No wonder you make your slaves mute, so they can't talk back, to tell you to shut the fuck up! Tristan Odair would have ended you if only things had worked differently. He was astute and knew how to play the game in your world, better than I could. I won't contest that fact. You get your revenge on me. Leave Peeta alone. He did nothing wrong. My Peet is a good soul, got caught in the ugliness you've engendered with your dehumanizing Law, wanting to control every aspect of your people. My consolation is knowing I've set in motion the end of it all, your sickening disregard for life. Gale Hawthorne didn't die in vain and I won't either. You want their perpetual fear, but it won't work. Your fear is real. The end is near. Your end is just around the corner, old man. Believing and knowing that comforts me. Say and do, your days are numbered as well."

As matches go, it is a tie between rivals. Snow storms away, as Finnick holds on to his believe that Peeta will live past his death, and will one day get to hold his daughter.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Peeta holds Katniss, as he makes take sips of tepid water. They are hiding in abandoned warehouse in the outskirts of the Capitol. A dilapidated, forgotten place that used to sell toys that no longer holds the imagination of the privileged boys bred at the Capitol.

There's barely food left, but Peeta trusts that Cinna will come with more.

"Shh… Don't cry, Katniss. Remember what the doctor said. If you get upset it can hurt Dahlia. I know this is not the best place to be and we've endured horrible situations in such a short time, but you have to think of only her… F-Finnick did it for her…"

Katniss holds back a sob at the mention of Finnick. He made a promise and held to it, only it didn't turn out how he'd plan, Peeta said.

"Why?"

Peeta kisses her warm forehead, worried she may get sick.

"Why what?"

Katniss glares back, "Why did he do it? He should've stuck to the plan, where everyone would have been happy and we'd be in a farm away from the Capitol. Why denounce Snow? He will end up like Gale… Nothing will change and we'll be caught. You'll be hung like them and I'll be punished and put back into service or killed after I give birth to the only valuable currency I hold, a new potential womb."

Peeta stays quiet after her outburst, it was futile to argue anymore. Smoke and ash remains on their clothes as the Odair home was destroyed in retaliation for Finnick's rebellion. They'd escaped and ran for cover, following Finn's instructions to wait for Cinna. Mags didn't follow them. It was expected. She would stay with her son and his fate.

Peeta silently curses Finnick's pride and hubris. Katniss was right in pointing out that he didn't follow his own plan to renegade on their union. Finnick simply couldn't state he didn't love his Peeta. His guilt and compliance had won over his conscience.

A series of tappings let them know that Cinna is coming with food and fresh water. Katniss' stomach decides to announce its hunger, "Good thing he's finally here. My stomach may decide to eat you and won't fight it." Peeta simply pushes hair back from her face and kisses her nose, "And I'd let you. I bet I taste like chicken."

They laugh right as Cinna finds them.

"Isn't this sweet? How are the lovebirds? The bun in the oven behaving? Have some bread, Katnips, she needs to grow and be more beautiful than you."

Cinna tries to hide it, but his eyes show his inner turmoil. His best friend is on his way to be executed and there's nothing he can do to stop it. What he is doing can end him the same way. He takes a deep breath and tries to control his mounting anxiety at being caught harboring deserters.

"Any news?"

Cinna drops another bag, "More of the same. Snow is trying to do more damage control and keep his citizens oblivious, selling them some new contest to keep them entertain. Only there's no way he can stop the rebels. They are burning crops and government buildings. A red mark is appearing everywhere. And I MEAN EVERYWHERE! It's showing up in the Districts, an extinct bird-"

"A Mockingjay?"

Cinna nods, "Yes! That's the one! How?"

Peeta gets up and starts pacing, "He's done it! Abernathy is using momentum. It is happening! The Rebellion is spreading all over Panem! This is the beginning of the end for Snow. He won't be able to stop us all. Finnick may live after all. The rebels weren't able to save Gale, but maybe they can save Finnick. He's become a beacon for their cause. He doesn't deserve to be sacrificed."

Katniss stares at Cinna, as he dances in celebration, "Live Long the Mockingjay! Preach it, Peet! Finn is gonna live. That gorgeous bod can't go to waste without having you once more… It's a travesty to let such a man die for speaking his mind. Flav is on meds until further notice. He can't fathom such an act, just for that he is rooting for the rebels."

Katniss smiles, as Peeta laughs at Cinna's irreverent ridiculousness. Then the three of them are dancing, hoping and believing that the presence of the Rebellion's symbol means the cusp of Snow's regime and the Law.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

A Mockingjay mark mocks Snow. Every District in Panem wears it, following acts of treason from his citizens. He slams the reports of unrest and destruction of his factories and crops. His advisors fear of food shortages and anarchy. He signs another order for implementing mandatory curfew in every district, no exemption on any individual found violating it.

His new Avox stands with its head down. His body is a work of art. He toys with the idea of inviting Heavensbee to see how the meek shall inherit the earth.

"You thought your words would change our world, but it has only brought strife and possible famine to the outer districts. You have changed nothing, Odair. Now come kneel by my feet and observe how a real father treats his disobedient children."

Without looking up, Finnick complies and kneels by Snow's feet. His body shows the marks of punishment for his resistance and his mouth is bound by the Avox's mark of eternal silence. Only a slight slit allows for liquids to enter his body, causing him to feel weak and lightheaded. Another form of control, the master sadistic manipulator has perfected in his personal slaves, women and men alike, suffer the same fate until he gets bored and kills them by his own hand.

"Ah… This is the decree that states a required offering of at least one life, per week, to ensure compliance from each District. A detractor will be scarified for the greater good, for the better of our majestic Republic. You my darling Finnick will be our offering this coming week. I wish I could keep you longer, but it must be done sooner, rather than later. We mustn't keep the Rebellion waiting and guessing."

So the end of his torture is near, a blessing in disguise. He was tired of pretending that he had been broken.

Endure.

Endure.

Endure.

Every lash, every humiliation means Peeta lives. Once his life is extinguished, every citizen will know no one is safe from Snow.

Loud footsteps enter the President's chambers, various Peacekeepers and one high ranking official bring more reports. A photo falls from the stack that has been delivered. It depicts a red mark, a form of a bird in flight with the words, "Long Live the Mockingjay!" Finnick recognizes the landmark, it is not very far from where he used to live. The Rebellion is here.

Snow snarls and slaps the commander in front of his men, calling him incompetent and threatening him with turning him into another member of his Avoxes. The man shudders and gags at the prospect. He promises results and leaves with his men.

Finnick silently cheers at the small victory.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

The last day of Finnick Odair arrives. The squared is packed with every citizen obligated to watch how one of their one will meet his end. No one can turn away and forget the consequences of dissension and disobedience from the Law. The greater good must prevail. Snow drones on as he speaks to the crowd.

"This man has turned his back to our values, to our very survival. No corrective therapy can fix what can't be undone. I sentence this traitor to death by hanging. Citizens of Panem let this be a warning to any of you thinking of seceding from the Republic and entertaining the traitors that have run amok in some parts of our Panem: No insubordination will be tolerated, swift punishment shall befall all. May you find your death amusing, Avox Odair."

Peeta and Katniss watch from the safety of darkened windows. Katniss holds Peeta's hand, not knowing what to say, how to console him. Nothing prepares them, when Finnick is dragged and the noose is tightened around his bloodied and bruised neck. His lips have been badly sewn. The reapplied sutures have festered. His hands have lost fingers and his chest bears the marks of unrelenting whipping sessions. He is emaciated and it's a wonder how he still draws breath. Peeta bites his fits, as his eyes well with tears. This is not his Finn, and he's responsible for this. Only the Odair eyes staring at the crowd show a glimpse of the man he once had been.

Peeta is about to run into the crowd and scream his name and demand he be killed as well. Katniss holds him back and he feels her belly between them. "Don't let him die in vain. Live for him and for Dahlia. Protect her, as he is doing now. Don't dishonor is sacrifice." He concedes and holds her, briefly closing his eyes and remembering the first time he saw Finnick.

Peeta still holds hope the Rebellion will save Finnick and begging open war on Snow. He opens his eyes, searching among the onlookers, one man, Haymitch Abernathy.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Peeta wasn't the only one with the same thoughts, Heavensbee makes a scene demanding the release of Tristan Odair's only son, the sole heir, to him. He arguments Finnick is no longer a danger to Panem's well-being and security. He assures his voice has been silenced forever, being the ramblings of a jilted lover. The one who should face the noose is the real guilty party, Peeta Mellark, who betrayed his partner by consorting with a vessel. As he speaks, he is overcome with sobs as he can see what's been done to his Finn. His words fall on deaf ears, as Snow disregards him, and gives the signal. Just as Finn hangs explosions can be seen and heard throughout. The live feed is cut off, or so Snow believes, as rebels use the chaos to take control of the city.

It is Haymitch Abernathy who apprehends Snow. Many of his fellow rebels demand Snow's life, and Haymitch is tempted. In the end, he believes the new laws will prosecute his crimes and procure the justice the new Republic deserves. If not, he'll make sure to burn the Capitol to ashes for every life taken, for every slave left to die, forgotten.

"We need to go," Katniss begs Peeta. The Rebellion is too late in saving Finnick. He hangs for the Capitol to see what's the cost of freedom.

Men and women from other Districts, of all ages, stand brave and strong against Snow and his Peacekeepers. They won't give up now or ever again. Snow stands alone, as Heavensbee and others finally break and join the rebellion. Snow start to foam at the mouth, having secure his fate taking poison.

"Look at your President now! A coward's end he takes!"

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Mags holds her dead child, giving him a mother's kiss. The Snow's Republic lies in ruins. All she feels is bottomless empty.

_Was it worth it, my son?_

She whispers as his body is taken from her and she wails to heavens. The pain too great to hold. She runs to Snow and demands against his mutilated corpse.

"Why my son? You heartless bastard! You won't let me kill you! Please, let me die!"

Haymitch takes hold of the grieving mother, "Your son is the new Mockingjay for this generation. He won't ever be forgotten, Finnick Odair will live on, to remind us the cost of blind fear, of abdicating our rights to tyranny. He is our true hero from this day forth."

"Pretty words won't give me my son back."

A statue in a rebuild republic won't sooth a mother's loss.

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

Peeta and Katniss leave the Capitol, to live in the woods, just as she had done most of her life.

Both are damaged by what they've lived and witness. For a long time it seems they would never escape it. Peeta lived with an all consuming guilt, his betrayal and his responsibility in Finnick's death. No one could reach him, make him see that he was still breathing and he had to live for Finn's legacy.

It is Mags who confronts him one day. Somehow she found the strength to follow them into a secluded life, away from the memories of her tormented past and the political upheaval of reforming a crumbling republic. Her only reason for living being taking care of her grandchild.

One afternoon, Peeta is pretending to draw the surrounding mountains and their shack, when Mags approaches him.

"Are you done mopping today?"

He is startled by her sudden appearance.

"She is still here. Don't know why. But she still stays. And that babe of your grows more everyday and soon she'll ask why her father doesn't love her."

Peeta glares at the trees and the world that keeps on living. It wasn't fair, when Finn didn't.

"I-I love Dahlia... She's the most precious thing-"

Mags touches his cheek, "You are all I've got, you and that grand-baby. Katniss deserves to be happy...and so do you." Her voice breaks, "Finn was my son and I'll miss him until I die, but please, don't reproach his sacrifice by not living. Life is passing you by, and you simply don't care. Be the son I know you are, for I love you like...a son. Love that woman, as I know you can, and for fuck's sake give me more grand-babies like my Delly. Is it too much to ask for more like that precious girl?"

He shakes his head, as he tries to wipe the tears away.

The hurt will live on, a wound that hasn't fully closed, living between them, like a torn-off limb. Finnick had joined them, and somehow kept them together at high price, his own life.

Would Katniss forgive him, them, for what they had done?

 

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

 

A Mockingjay starts to mimic her hums, as Katniss sits reclined against Peeta's chest. Dahlia is five years old and more rambunctious than ever. She is picking up flowers to take back to Granny Mags. His fingers brushes her hair from her neck, as he pecks the revealed skin. His other hand wanders further down until it touches Katniss' distended belly.

If it is boy, the babe's name is already picked out. Katniss wants another girl, so she could be called Prim, in memory of her long lost little sister, but Peeta is certain it is going to be a boy.

Finnick Mellark.


End file.
